


A Sentimental Mind

by icterine



Category: Gokusen - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 18:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icterine/pseuds/icterine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryu struggles to pursue his sexuality. His father wants none of it in the family, and Hayato, the target of his fancying, is being at the very least bipolar with his approaches. The situation culminates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sentimental Mind

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** A Sentimental Mind  
>  **Beta:** Isa [pinkeuphoria1 on Livejournal]  
>  **Pairing:** Ryu/Hayato  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Genre:** Angst, General, Romance  
>  **Warnings:** Domestic abuse, violence and homophobia.  
>  **Disclaimers:** The characters and the universe do not belong to me.  
>  **Word count:** 22,700

Ryu feels tiny droplets of saliva landing on his skin, but he doesn’t flinch. He merely sits still, apathetically, as he looks up to the red-faced vice principal who’s roaring at him, telling him how incredibly disappointed, astonished, and furious he is due to his indecent behaviour. Ryu can’t blame him.

This is his worst scolding up to date at school. At home he gets yelled at on a daily basis, so it doesn’t startle him much. His hands prickle and feel weak as depression overwhelms him. It’s lunch time, but here he is, and honestly, he doesn’t have even the slightest appetite right now.

“I guess we expected too much from you, Odagiri-kun,” the vice principal sucks a breath in venomously as he glares at him, eyes narrowed. Ryu doesn’t budge. He won’t get suspended or expelled – he could, maybe, if it weren’t for his father. “Your grades have gone down, you’ve taken part in physical fights… I’m afraid we can’t overlook this anymore. You’ve gone too far this time.”

Ryu sighs and looks away. It feels like he has a black hole inside of him, one that keeps growing and turning him into dust from the inside only to suck it away somewhere where it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s been involved in fights every now and then since secondary school – somehow his constant withdrawnness and long patience makes people eager to bully him, constantly push him until he can’t help but let them have what is coming for them. He’s been brought up to endure, but sometimes he just feels like he can’t take it anymore. He wants to cry and break things, break the entire world even, but he can’t. Instead, he beats people into bloody pulps until someone with more authority stops him.

“You’ll be transferred,” he’s told as the principal flips through his files with shaky hands, licking his fingers to help him turn the pages swiftly. “I’ll send your papers to the school counsellor. You’ll be placed in class 1-D.”

Ryu raises his head, heart pounding painfully inside his chest. He’s heard of 1-D, he’s seen them. On the corridors, in the school yard, in the lunch hall and outside of school, acting like reckless, brainless thugs and robbing students of their lunch money. He fists his aching hands, looks down at them. His knuckles are raw and bloody – he didn’t get to go through the infirmary before coming here.

So his worth is as low as those 1-D guys now. …Great. His father isn’t going to be happy about this.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles and bows his head. He needs to be forgiven, he needs to remain in his class. Just has to. He doesn’t want this. It wasn’t entirely his fault. People just don’t believe him. No one cares what gets the violent behaviour out of him. It makes him feel lonely and alone in this universe. “I’m really sorry.”

“You should tell that to the kid whose face you just turned into mush, Odagiri-kun,” the vice principal scoffs coldly. He’s in trouble, he knows, and so is the school. He raises his head and sees no sympathy in the vice-principle’s eyes. He’s pushed his toes too far over the line. “Your new classroom teacher will be here to lead you to class shortly. Don’t move, don’t try your luck anymore. I’ll go and deliver these papers and after that I will inform your parents about this.”

It’s gone. Everything. He doesn’t move, just sits still as he feels it all draining away. He’s done for.

1-D…

He doesn’t want this.

The door opens behind him. He doesn’t turn his head, doesn’t flinch. He stares out of the large window to the deserted school yard, wonders if all the students are snickering in class, exchanging tiny papers in which they’re gossiping about him.

“Get up, Odagiri-kun,” his new classroom teacher greets him. “Class starts in five minutes. I’ll give you your new timetable today after school.”

He gets up with a creak of the chair and turns around to look at the bulky, strict man. He draws in a deep breath in defeat, throws his schoolbag over his shoulder and cocks his head with a defiantly disinterested glare.

He’s tired of being controlled all the time. He’s tired of struggling for survival like a fish out of water, tired of everything. If he’s going to attend classes with 1-D, he’s got to change to make it through. He’s not going to get run over again.

“Lead the way,” he mocks curtly. His fingers tremble as he clenches his bag and pushes the other fist into his pocket to hide his weakness from his new teacher as he meets his eyes. Right now, at this moment, he needs to be _reborn_. He will be.

He’s strongly pushed out of the room to the corridor and forced to almost jog forward towards the class by his new teacher. He’s led outside of the school building and towards the shady looking door that leads to narrow corridors coloured with an occasional graffiti here and there. There’s a loud ruckus ahead.

He can’t break now. This can’t be the end.

“Quiet!” the teacher roars as he steps in the class. He throws the board sponge at one of the rascals as Ryu follows behind him, careful to keep his stoic expression intact and back straight. “I said _quiet_ ,” the teacher hisses and someone throws an empty juice box at him, erupting a throaty laughter from the entire class. _So many of them._

“Oi, it’s the guy who punched Yamamoto-kun’s teeth in!” someone yells from the back row. Ryu’s stomach does cartwheels as he looks away with a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembers that he still hasn’t gotten to wash his hands. “It is, it is!” someone joins in and there’s a rowdy applause. It’s sickening.

“I said QUIET!” the teacher bellows again, but doesn’t get the reaction he’s demanding. Finally he just turns around and starts writing Ryu’s name on the board. Someone whistles. How on earth is he supposed to learn anything in this environment?

“ODAGIRI RYU,” the bulky classroom teacher whose name Ryu doesn’t know informs the class. “DO YOU WANT TO INTRODUCE YOURSELF?”

Ryu snorts. The class suddenly goes dead quiet. Everyone is peering up at him expectantly and curiously. He feels violated and ridiculed. This whole thing is a _joke_.

“Stop kidding with me,” he scoffs coldly and walks towards one of the empty desks in the back row. Someone cheers and claps his hands but most of the class remains silent as he throws his bag on the desk and crashes to sit down. The guys around him are staring at him with wide eyes. He wonders if he did something wrong.

No one objects though, so he doesn’t move. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone – he’s got to remain strong now. He can’t show a single weak spot to this bunch of dreadful animals or he’s going to get ripped apart without the slightest feeling of empathy.

It’s a brand new start for him from the very bottom. Here, Ryu decides, no one will control him. Here, in this classroom, he’s going to be his own master… for once in his life.

\--

“Odagiri, huh,” one of the guys sighs leisurely as he hops on Ryu’s desk, followed by a small group of his friends. They all look like teenage punks with gel and wax in their hair, and casual shirts under the school jacket. Ryu glares up at the boy sitting on his desk, takes in the way the roots of the boy’s hair curl femininely. He doesn’t look as punk as he thinks he does. “I’m Yabuki Hayato, the leader of this class.”

“Uh huh,” he answers distantly and leans back in his chair. He’s not here to make friends. He never had that many, hasn’t had any in a few years now. Nothing’s going to change now.

“Don’t be so bratty!” the boy scoffs and ruffles his dark hair. Ryu slaps his hand away and looks at him straight in the eyes again with a defiant look. Someone whistles. Ryu can feel people’s eyes on him.

He just wants to get away.

Yabuki doesn’t look as welcoming anymore. Whereas he previously looked curious and interested, now he’s starting to look pissed off and judging. It makes Ryu’s heart hammer anxiously. He’s a bit scared, he has to admit. Getting beaten up is nothing new, nor is getting constantly bullied. It doesn’t mean he likes it, though. He’s just a human being like everyone else, even though people seem to sometimes forget it.

His lips quiver. His mind is screaming instructions at him to do this and that, but he can’t decide what. Fear is creeping up his limbs, alerting his body about a possible need to attack. He won’t flee, can’t flee. He’s going to fight for it if he has to.

He hopes the inner panic can’t be detected from his eyes. If it can, he might be done for. He’s heard about Yabuki. He’s the last person he needs in his life right now.

“Chill out,” Yabuki tells him, his tone deliberate and demeaning. It makes Ryu’s hands shake by his sides. “We just wanted to know about that little quarrel you had with Yamamoto.”

“It’s none of your business,” Ryu attempts to dismiss the bunch curtly. Yabuki clicks his tongue, seemingly unimpressed. Only one lesson in and he’s already making enemies.

Yabuki cocks his head and leans closer, his eyes wide and threatening as they peer deep into Ryu’s who refuses to even flinch. “You really don’t want to get on my bad side, Odagiri,” the boy threatens him with a silent hiss and withdraws a little. He’s pretty good with his act, it’s like straight from TV. Ryu gulps and licks his lips anxiously.

“I don’t care,” he answers, starting to expect a punch his way. He’s not going to fight back, all the hope isn’t gone yet. If he fixes his ways, he’s got a chance of getting transferred back. He won’t give in.

“So snobby,” Yabuki snorts as he hops off Ryu’s desk and looks down at him, all mighty and strong. “You probably think you’re better than us,” the boy chuckles meanly, the expression on his face sweetly mocking. It makes cold shivers run through Ryu’s spine. “Let me tell you something – you’ve gone your way to deserve a spot in this class. We’re just the same. Guys, let’s let him be,” he announces to his friends as he turns around. “He’ll be sorry later when he’s all alone.”

Hardly. Ryu doesn’t look at them, just listens to the bunch walking away from him. Yabuki doesn’t speak for a while, but his friends start blabbering loudly again and soon the classroom is filled with more loud, childish, and bratty behaviour. The students play all sorts of games with whatever they’ve dragged to the classroom with them, never mind school rules or policies. Ryu just stares ahead, feeling the black hole inside of him growing.

He won’t be overruled or put down. This class won’t win over him. He’s got to have control _somewhere_ in this world.

\--

“What is this?” his father enquires, showing him his latest Chemistry exam with points just enough to pass. Ryu doesn’t change his expression as he stares at the paper absently. It’s pointless to say he was the only one in his class who even passed, or that it’s impossible to learn in the environment – not only because it’s impossible to _focus_ , but also because it’s impossible for the teacher to even _teach_. Most of the time, he doesn’t. Pointing it out though would just serve as a reminder of why he’s in 1-D to begin with, what a failure and disappointment he is in every way imaginable.

“Explain this,” his father demands. His voice is loud, ear-piercing, and his skin looks a little pale with the rage he tries to contain. Ryu sighs, which earns him a violent tug of the front of his shirt. He glares up at his father. “Now, Ryu,” his father insists, his temper impossibly short. Ryu doesn’t answer.

“So this is what you do nowadays, is it?” his father growls dangerously and lets go of his shirt. “You’ve got to cut the attitude right now, Ryu, or I’m going to have to send you somewhere where they can handle disrespectful little punks like you. You used to be _diligent_. Stop fooling around and act like your age, for once! This is high school, this will define your future! Don’t ruin it for yourself!”

Ryu can’t help it – he snorts. All the difficult emotions rise up in his throat and make themselves known in that quiet, hardly audible sound that sets hell loose in the house. There’s a harsh slap on his face and he loses his balance for a while, but doesn’t fall over. He straightens his posture and glares at his father who’s _fuming_ , and he knows that this is going to be one of the worst nights in months. Even his mother has wisely made herself scarce.

He tries to walk away but he’s pulled back, so he resorts to struggling, to which his father answers with more furious bellowing of how much of a disgrace he is to the Odagiri family. They collide against the bookshelf and Ryu grabs for its support desperately – only to notice in fear how it’s _tilting_ , coming his way and his father is roaring and then there are tons of books falling over him and a sound of porcelain vases shattering when he flees, leaves his father to struggle with the shelf as he snatches his shoes from the foyer and rushes out. Then he just _runs_.

He only stops somewhere far away when he’s out of breath and limping. His shirt is soaked through with cold sweat and he’s panting in pain, slowly starting to realise he’s bruised all over by the books. People are giving him weird looks and the evening temperatures during the early winter are regrettably cold. Of course.

The sky is painted with hues of orange and red. Ryu crashes to sit down on a park bench, shivering in the cold evening air in his thin shirt. There’s a slight wind that chills him to his very bones and he doubles over, trying to find any remaining heat within himself.

It was stupid to run off without grabbing a jacket, _any_ jacket. His body feels weak, tender and aching all over. People look at him strangely as they pass by, fathers ushering their wives and children to the other side of the road and past as fast as their feet can carry them. Ryu wants to stand up and yell at the world that _it isn’t him_ , he hasn’t been fighting like all the bad kids around here. This isn’t his fault, not entirely, he didn’t deserve all of these bruises and cuts. No one would care, though. No one would believe him, or if they did, well, that wouldn’t help either.

In the end, he stays quiet and withdrawn on the bench, peers up at the cloudy sky as it slowly turns redder, the golden light cast upon the world turning warmer. His eyes feel wet but he holds back the tears insistently. He’s _used to this_ , this isn’t anything new or big.

He’s _so cold_.

A shiver racks through his body violently as he attempts to straighten up. He gasps a chilly breath of air that freezes his lungs, and closes his eyes. He wonders if he’d die of cold if he stayed out all night, but the truth is, he probably wouldn’t. It’s a sad thought.

“You look like shit.”

Ryu turns his torso around swiftly, peering up wide-eyed at a very certain Yabuki Hayato who circles the bench to sit down next to him. He’d get up and leave, but his pride doesn’t let him. He only blinks away the remainders of the bitter tears from his eyes and sniffs to regain his strength.

He’s too tired to deal with this. Yabuki is looking at him. He looks strained and worried, eyebrows knitted together as he tries to think something through in his miniscule brains. Ryu kind of wants to tell him he’s wasting precious energy by thinking, that he isn’t made for it, just to piss him off and get beaten up just a little more. He doesn’t, though, too startled by Yabuki’s sudden movement. The boy strips his school jacket off and tries to wrap it over Ryu’s shoulders but Ryu squirms to stop him, his breathing hitching up.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Yabuki snaps at him anxiously. The scary thing is that he looks genuinely worried. The wind hits against Yabuki’s face, uncovering it from the curly locks. Ryu feels his own hair getting into his mouth and he tries to move it away with his violently shaking hands.

“I don’t need your help,” Ryu tries to insist but Yabuki scoffs agitatedly and finally forces the jacket over Ryu’s shoulders. Ryu peers up at him, unable to figure him out. He looks too warm and soft, too caring. It doesn’t suit him.

“If you get in trouble, tell me, won’t you?” Yabuki tries to say nonchalantly, motioning at Ryu’s bruises. Ryu purses his lips together, the look in his eyes hardening as he faces Yabuki. Like hell. “Or any one of us. We’ll beat them up.”

“I don’t need you,” Ryu tries to argue, his teeth clattering from the cold. Yabuki grimaces and touches Ryu’s hand before Ryu pulls it away in a jerky motion. He’s starting to shake again. The jacket doesn’t grant him much heat.

“Fuck, you’re cold,” Yabuki groans. “What are you, self-destructive?”

“It’s _none of your business_ –”

“It IS my business!” Yabuki roars at him as he stands up, his breathing rapid and wheezy as he peers down at Ryu angrily. Ryu’s heart hammers in his chest, the traitor it is. _Ah_ , Ryu comes to a sudden realisation that doesn’t make any of this any easier. His stomach sinks helplessly, and then he’s weak and vulnerable again.

“It is my business,” Yabuki repeats with a mumble as he crosses his arms and purses his lips. “You’re one of my people, so it is my business. Everyone is worried about you,” he waves his hand and Ryu raises his eyebrows in question as much as he can while his body violently shivers from the cold. He turns around, looks down the hill and – ah. He can see Yabuki’s in-group looking up at them from below. “Come?” Yabuki asks him hopefully and pulls him up from his wrist. The jacket falls and Ryu barely has time to turn around before Yabuki has already snatched it and wrapped it around his shoulders. “Put it on properly,” he insists and Ryu tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “Come on…” Yabuki snarls until he manages to properly dress Ryu.

He’s probably cold, he’s only wearing a t-shirt and the wind is quite sharp. His flesh has goose bumps but he tries to act strong as he wraps his arm around Ryu’s shoulder and starts leading him down the hill towards his friends. Ryu’s chest feels tight. He wonders how he got here, or if he even wants to be here. He doesn’t know.

“We’re going to that café down the road,” Yabuki announces to his friends once they’re close enough for their voices to carry to their ears. Most of the young men look perplexed and nervous as they peer at Ryu, but the short boy is smiling with a kind and relieved expression.

“Let’s go then,” the short boy says. His name is Take, Ryu knows – or that’s what the class calls him anyway.

The walk to the café isn’t long, but it’s long enough to make Ryu doubt himself. The others chatter nervously, tease each other about things Ryu has no idea about so he remains quiet. Yabuki has removed his arm from around his shoulder and is walking with a pained expression on his face. The cold air probably irritates him, but Ryu didn’t force him to give him his jacket. It was Yabuki’s choice to act all courteous. He doesn’t necessarily have to feel sorry about it, even though he does.

At the café, it’s warm. The short boy, Take, accompanies him to the table. The evening starts turning dark, Ryu observes absently from the window as he shakily sits down at the table. His body is still shivering violently as it attempts to stabilize his body heat. He hates it, hates looking so vulnerable. Not to mention, he now owes the group a favour. He’s let Yabuki lead him too. He’s lost his independence.

“Are you alright?” Take asks him kindly with pitiful eyes that sicken Ryu, who looks away and out of the window, trying anxiously to sink back to his stoic apathy that gets him through. He’s quite successful, he thinks, as the other boys noisily arrive back at the table and Yabuki sits beside him, pushing a steaming, large cup of hot chocolate in front of him. He looks a bit like a puppy when Ryu looks at him, clinging helplessly to his mask.

“It’s for you,” Yabuki barks. “You don’t owe us anything.”

“…Mmh.”

“Let’s drink then, shall we?” one of the other boys, commonly addressed to as ‘Tsucchi’ urges them all and the group smiles with shiny eyes, squealing delightedly and Take clapping his hands as they raise the glasses to their lips. Ryu sits quietly with his hands squeezed between his thighs as he observes them, wondering what he should do.

He thinks way too much sometimes.

“Drink,” Yabuki nudges him. “It’s okay, we bought it for you so don’t you dare waste it!” he pouts and picks up the mug himself, bringing it forcibly to Ryu’s lips. “Hayato!” someone cries out and there’s a lot of startling noises and chuckles before Ryu helplessly opens his mouth and feels the hot liquid pouring down to his mouth and burning his tongue. He coughs and Yabuki withdraws with a smug smile, his eyes gleaming happily. “That’s how you do it!”

Ryu’s mouth twitches into a faint smile, emitting an embarrassing cheer from the group. They’re all so ridiculously _happy_ just because he’s here, smiling, even if it’s not even a full smile. It catches him off guard and makes him nervous as he places his hands around his mug, letting it warm them.

Without really noticing or trying, he’s managed to make friends for the first time in the past few years. How it happened, he doesn’t know. Somehow, here with these people, he feels more at ease than he’s felt in a very long time.

\--

He should’ve known making friends with the students from 1-D would only bring him trouble, though. He feels stupid as he stands still in the middle of the snickering group as Tsucchi asks a nerdy-looking 2-B student for his lunch money. _Asks_ doesn’t mean he’s doing it kindly – he sounds surprisingly polite with his request, but there’s something threatening in his aura and the poor student looks shaky under the shadow Tsucchi’s tall form casts over him. Hayato is whistling lazily.

“N-no,” the boy tries to refuse and takes a few steps away before Hayato grabs him by the back of his school uniform jacket and pulls him back sharply. Hyuuga is laughing, his tone low and somehow _stupid_. Ryu watches the situation evolve, the look in the bullied boy’s eyes getting more desperate. Hayato does some kind of a weird gesture with a peace sign with his fingers and clicks his tongue. “Please,” he adds mockingly and smirks.

“Just hand it over,” Hyuuga says and Take joins in too. They’re circling the boy who knows he’s defeated already. His eyes meet Ryu’s who still stands still, feet glued to where he is. He isn’t a bully, hasn’t been so far at least. Yes, he’s beaten people up, but they’ve all had it coming. He hasn’t raised his hand if there hasn’t been an absolute need for it.

“Ryu?” Hayato asks him and he snaps back to reality. Hayato is looking at him weirdly, urging him to come over too, join the bullying. It sets off an internal battle – to join or not to join. He can’t look like a weakling, but he doesn’t want to be one of Hayato’s puppets either. He needs to have his control.

In the end, he scoffs like he doesn’t care and slouches over beside Hayato with a disinterested and stoic expression. Their target gives in and shakily goes through his bag to dig for the money he has. Hayato takes the bag from him and makes sure he isn’t leaving anything before he tosses the bag back with a triumphant yell, making the boy roll over. “Game hall, here we come!” Hayato wails happily and Ryu raises his eyebrows in question.

“Huh?” he cries out as the group of friends suddenly dash back towards the front gates of the school. He looks at the school building and curses in his head, trying to come up with a solution to the dilemma. It’s Hayato who notices that he isn’t running with them – the boy turns around and jogs slowly backwards.

“RYU!” Hayato yells at him. “QUICKLY! COME ON!”

His stomach sinks. He thinks of all the classes, all the unnecessary hours he spends at school without learning a thing. He starts backing away from the building and tears his gaze away – the other boys are right, he _can_ spend his time better.

“YABUKI-KUN!” a teacher’s shrill voice comes from somewhere and Hayato curses loudly before making a dash outside the gates. Ryu pales – they’re screwed. He squeezes his school bag against his chest as he runs after his friends before someone recognizes him and the teachers find out he had taken part in the unfortunate scene with the 2-B boy. His father doesn’t need to hear about this.

The entire group waits for him near the gate. They grab him from his arms and start dragging him somewhere past bushes and tiled roads to freedom. If someone told him his life would be like this five years ago, he would’ve laughed straight at that person’s face. Now, though…

He’s living a life that feels more like his than anything he’s ever had before.

\--

He doesn’t fully blend in with the group, not really. They’re loud and always so insanely full of energy Ryu doesn’t know where it comes from, but he follows them, maybe a few steps to the back or side, and no one gives him weird looks or whispers behind his back. Oddly, he feels accepted and wanted, and every now and then his friends insist on engaging him in the conversation too. Especially Take becomes his friend – he’s not so bad, not when Ryu gets to know him. He’s just never been too smart, and he was originally put in 1-D for his bad grades, not behaviour, although that has gotten to him later on. Ryu can’t blame him, because he isn’t the same person anymore either.

“Come on, Ryu, don’t just stand there,” Hayato moans at him and pulls him from his arm in front of the stacks of hair colouring products. Ryu blinks stupidly, and then suddenly Tsucchi, who’s fluttering his fan with one hand, is examining his hair. It’s nerving. Somewhere on their right, Hyuuga is pulling different packets off the shelves to examine them better.

“Red could suit him,” Tsucchi notes and pulls out a packet with the picture of a woman with cranberry red hair. Ryu shoves his arm away quickly – he’s not going to put any of that stuff in his hair. “Ooh, he’s mad!”

“ _Relax,_ ” Hayato whines and starts curling his locks around his finger. Ryu scoffs and tries to back away but then Take is suddenly pushing him from behind, chirpily asking them what colour he’s getting. Ryu doesn’t really like where this is going.

“Copper isn’t that extreme,” Hayato mumbles thoughtfully as he pulls one of the packets from the shelf. Ryu rolls his eyes – when hasn’t copper been extreme when compared to black? Then again, the packet Hayato is holding is hardly going to do anything much to his hair, tint it slightly reddish if anything.

“Whatever,” he mumbles and his friends cheer happily as they start making their way to the checkout, everyone blabbering excitedly.

Ryu has a bad feeling about the whole ordeal as they all force themselves to fit in Take’s home’s bathroom. Hayato squirts the conditioner-like substance to his hair and tells him to keep still. He’s only got one stripe put on his fringe from Take’s solution. He insists it’ll look cooler than any of their hair, but Ryu thinks he’s just being a pussy about colouring his hair.

It _burns_. He wonders if he’s allergic to the solution or if anything’s wrong as he waits and shivers in his boxers, watching the others fool around. After ten minutes or so, Tsucchi stares at the package in his hand carefully and squints his eyes.

“Hey, isn’t this Ryu’s stuff?” he asks and then everyone keeps looking back and forth between the two of them. Ryu looks at Hayato, who groans and walks over to grab the package from Tsucchi’s hand and peers at it. He starts paling a little and Ryu’s eyes widen. Oh no.

“Uh, I might’ve mixed your stuff,” he mumbles and Tsucchi groans. Ryu makes a dash for the shower and turns it on. “Don’t worry, Ryu!” Hayato tries to yell after him, even if his voice is shrill like a girl’s. “I’m sure blond will suit you!”

 _Fuck._ He washes his hair before everyone else starts arguing over who gets to wash their hair first before it all falls off. He glares at Hayato who’s washed his stripe in the sink and starts blow drying his hair nervously. It looks dangerously light – there’s no way his father isn’t going to notice the change.

“Hey, it looks pretty copper,” Hayato notes delightedly. “All well!”

It’s copper, and weirdly enough, it _does_ kind of suit him. Tsucchi’s a bit cranky because his hair didn’t bleach too much, but he thinks it kind of suits him anyway and he’s a bit unsure whether he would’ve looked good with blonder hair. Take’s hair is the wildest – it’s nearly blond with a reddish tint that suits him remarkably well.

The rest of the evening, Hayato plays around with Ryu’s hair, the look in his eyes marvelling. He keeps bragging about his handiwork, as if he hadn’t mistakenly mixed up his and Tsucchi’s colours, and tells Ryu how he’s now a branded member of their group like he’s supposed to be.

He’s nervous when he arrives home, muttering an anxious “I’m home” as he steps in. His mother hurries to the foyer and stops in her tracks as she sees his hair.

“Ryu?” she asks disbelievingly and Ryu shrugs before walking past her to make his way upstairs.

“Son.”

He stops. It takes him a brief while to turn around and look at his father who’s glaring at him from below with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t shiver under the scrutiny, doesn’t show any signs of weakness as his father finally nods and tells him to go.

When he gets to his room, he leans his back against the closed door and exhales out of relief. This was easier than he thought it would be.

\--

Ryu is used to fear. It doesn’t startle him much, not really. It doesn’t mean he _likes it_ , per se – he doesn’t, not at all. It makes his stomach churn uneasily and heart pound anxiously as he observes it, his own fists shaking as he stands stiffly, jaw clenched. What he hates the most about violence is the weird animalistic sensations and impulses it tries to lure out of him. He’s afraid of losing control, afraid of the breakdown of his artificial composure as he enjoys the raw pleasure he gets from sinking his knuckles in someone’s soft flesh. He’s not proud of it, and he’s been brought up to know better than to pursue that hollow joy. Sometimes, though, he’s afraid the core of him is rotten deep and filled with violent urges that keep resurfacing.

It’s never been accepted. His violent behaviour’s been reduced by the constant social pressure around him, but that was all before he first set his foot in the classroom of 1-D. Right now, violence is what gets his peers cheering and laughing. He gets hostile glares or demeaning chuckles from the teachers and students from other classes, and gets harassed over his class more often than not – if anyone dares to open their mouth, that is, because 1-D is known for feeling no shame about pushing a tiny group of bullies around for saying bad things about them with the force of their entire class.

Ryu mostly doesn’t care. He’s learned self-discipline, so he stands quietly with his hands in his pockets and watches as his friends flame fire and let the world know it. “It helps sometimes,” Take tells him quietly one day after school when it’s just the two of them walking along a riverbank. “Nothing’s good, it just feels like everything is crumbling away and there’s no way to stop it, you know? It’s an outlet of sorts. Being together, fighting for something in unison.”

It’s understandable, on a thought level. How to unleash all those desperate feelings in practice, well, that is something Ryu finds difficult to relate to.

The night is creeping up on them again, but the nightlife is still alive and vibrant around them as they leave the game centre. Hyuuga and Tsucchi are arguing loudly about who the actual winner of the billiard game is. Take is trying to break them off and insists there’s nothing wrong at all with a tie. Hayato leads the group absently, his back profile distant somewhere ahead of the ruckus Ryu faces as he follows the bunch a few steps behind, not bothering with the pointless argument.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Ryu feels his eyebrows shooting up under his fringe. The argument dies and there’s silence – a group of boys around their age are glaring at Hayato with clenched fists and threatening expressions on their faces. Hayato sighs deeply, annoyed, and turns around on his heels to face the bunch he’d probably collided into. “What?” Hayato barks at them and snorts disrespectfully. “You’ve got a problem?”

“You want to take us on, man?” one of the boys howls amusedly and gives his friends amused looks. Ryu sees the vein pulsating on Hayato’s temple and he pushes through their friends to grab the other boy harshly from his bicep.

“Let it go,” he tells his friend with a snarl and tries to meet his gaze. Hayato doesn’t look at him, his eyes glued to the group. Then he laughs and Ryu wants to roll his eyes. Sometimes Hayato makes him want to punch his face in.

“What are you laughing at?”

“What are _you_?” Hayato yells with a hoarse voice. There’s a wild gleam in his eyes and Ryu wonders what’s wrong with him today for the hundredth time, but then again, everything probably is. “If you think you’re big enough to boast then show what makes you such a prissy punk.”

“Hayato!” Ryu hollers and pulls him back. It’s too late, though – the group is approaching them, their fists drawn back. The leader gets into a pretty serious looking fist fight with Hayato, both of their faces laced with intense hatred and machismo. Someone grabs Ryu from the collar and he grabs the boy by the wrists and struggles, adrenaline shooting through his veins. Then he loses track of what’s going on.

There are pained cries and grunts, and someone spits blood at his neck. There are three people pulling on his clothes and punching his face before he snaps and decides to protect himself. He elbows them with full power and lets them have what’s coming at them, aka his fist with full force. It sinks in and he feels things cracking. He shoves someone roughly to the ground and kicks them as he sees Take from the corner of his eye in a dire situation. He jumps over the form to protect his friend furiously, hits again and again and again until his knuckles are raw and bleeding and there’s a taste of iron coating his tongue. There’s a hand on his shoulder and he turns around sharply but it’s only Hayato, who’s turned the other way around, blocking an attack someone had tried to make to the back of his head with an empty beer bottle. Ryu doesn’t think he’s ever seen Hayato so outraged.

Hayato spits over the leader after their group lies on the ground, shaking and coughing helplessly. “Tell your friends to have a look out for Yabuki Hayato from Kurogin,” he tells with a mocking voice and does his peace sign gesture by bending his fingers twice. “See ya.”

Ryu helps Take to drag Hyuuga back on his feet. Hayato joins them soon and then it’s Ryu and Hayato who have a badly bruised Hyuuga’s arms around their shoulders and they’re fleeing the scene before the police can catch them. Tsucchi is leading them somewhere through the darker districts and concrete tunnels to safety. Ryu’s heart beats and his body feels warm.

“Did you see their _faces_?” Tsucchi laughs triumphantly and Hayato beams as they wipe Hyuuga’s bloody face with dry napkins. Hyuuga’s smiling too, though, his face swollen and blue. None of them have escaped without battle injuries, but mostly they’re fine. Hayato checks it with everyone, his leader habits kicking in. Ryu ponders why he feels so euphoric and relieved.

“I didn’t know you had such a strong right hook, Ryu,” Take suddenly notes with a grin and Ryu blinks, staring at him dumbly.

“Ah, I saw that too!” Hyuuga cries out and flinches as his movement opens the cut under his hairline. Tsucchi ruffles his hair, baby talking something incoherent, and Hayato’s chest puffs in pride as he pats Ryu’s shoulder. Ryu doesn’t know what he feels.

“It’s good to get some steam out,” Hayato sighs and cracks his neck lazily. “God, I needed that.”

Steam out. Ryu looks at the bright lamp above them. Maybe that’s what it is then – an _outlet_.

If it is, maybe it isn’t so bad. Not when his friends all smile and joke so easily afterwards.

Hayato earns himself a reputation from the fight. There are strategies and more fights which make Ryu feel light and newly born. Their name gets out and 1-D rises on the list of dangerous people to look out for that circulates around the schools around the area.

Nothing’s ever quite the same after that. They turn from defiant punks into small-scale criminals. It rubs him just the right way.

\--

When the break bell rings, half of the class dashes out to the school yards with a worn football they’ve been throwing to each other through the entire class. Not everyone leaves, though, because no one ever makes them. Some people join the card game that had been going on for the majority of the previous class and some take part in the darts game. Ryu doesn’t bother getting up from his chair.

“Odagiri-kun, may I have a word with you?” the teacher asks him. He pulls a chair from the empty desk in front of Ryu’s and sits down before him. Ryu raises his eyebrows calmly in question, not bothering to even straighten up on his chair.

“You’re the only one in this class with potential, Odagiri,” the teacher lectures him and Ryu scoffs, unimpressed. “You’re wasting your talent. Your grades have dropped and you don’t pay attention. I’ve been hearing rumours about you engaging in fights after school,” he notes strictly. “I’m here to help you learn, Ryu, so that you won’t have to be in this situation for the rest of your life. Meet me halfway.”

Ryu can’t help but smile to himself darkly. It’s really easy for the teacher to say that, isn’t it? He doesn’t have all the pressure and expectations over his shoulders to weigh him down, he’s not the one who needs to find the motivation to study when no one else does and the classes are absolutely useless.

“I understand that you’re frustrated –”

“What’s going on here?”

Hayato hops on Ryu’s desk, his eyes glued to the teacher’s. He’s trying to be intimidating, and Ryu has no idea why he has to poke his nose into everyone’s business all the time. He rolls his eyes and sighs.

“It’s fine, Hayato,” he tells his friend with a sure and disinterested voice. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s something,” Hayato insists bitterly and kicks the teacher’s chair as a warning. “What is he going to do, huh? Transfer you? Give you some after school classes? _Save_ you from us?” His laughter is sharp and vile. Ryu fights the urge to bury his face in his hands just because _Hayato is so painfully stupid_. “Like hell.”

“You don’t need to ruin the future of those who still have a chance at it,” the teacher mocks Hayato without the slightest hint of guilt.

Hayato’s face falls and there’s a brief flash of insecurity in his eyes before he covers it up with rage. “You…!” he growls and the teacher gets up on his feet, just in case. He’s used to Hayato’s uncontrollable violent impulses.

“I’ll have a talk with your father, Odagiri,” the teacher finally announces, turning his gaze back at Ryu whose hands clench into fists in his pockets. “We’ll talk about discipline and possible extra assignments after school to improve your grades. You’re not stupid. You know better than to let this go on for too long.”

“He doesn’t need that,” Hayato threatens and Ryu turns his head away. He doesn’t want it, nor does he think it’ll do him any good, but he’s really sick of his friend speaking for him. He isn’t a puppet.

“Hayato, shut up,” he warns him but Hayato ignores him completely as he draws his fist back and attacks the teacher, who’s quick to defend himself.

Soon, the entire class is on their feed to rush in to help their comrade. There’s a lot of blood and in the end Ryu doesn’t even know who’s fighting with who, because the entire class has turned into a war zone around his desk so that it seems that everyone is angry at everyone and willing to make them feel it.

An hour later, they’re patching themselves up with the school nurse’s first aid kits and waiting for the principal to finally get to their class with his angry dismissal. Ryu’s scared – what now? There was an ambulance that took the teacher and a few of their classmates away for further health care, which can’t really be good. Because of Hayato, they might all get suspended or expelled. If they do, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. Even now, the mere idea of going home to his family is too frightening to even make him react anymore. He numbs himself as he waits for their verdict. Take’s eyes are bloodshot and he looks even worse than Ryu, if possible.

“He had it coming,” Hayato steams, his face swollen and violet from all the blows he’s received. Ryu can barely stand listening to his voice. “Fucking asshole. Walking around like he owns the place. Shit head.”

“Can you just _shut up already_?” Tsucchi thankfully snaps at him. Most of the class is glaring at Hayato angrily. He’s the one who got them into this mess. It’s much easier to push the blame on someone than take responsibility for one’s own actions.

They all get suspended for two weeks, no exceptions. After interviews where everyone keeps their lips sealed and refuses to speak against their classmates, the police guide them out of the school gates. Ryu doesn’t think he’s ever felt as empty and ashamed of himself as today.

They all go their own ways. None of them can stand each other’s faces as they head home. Ryu heads to the riverbank, unable to gather the courage to go home yet. His mobile phone buzzes insistently in his pocket, and he’s sure his father knows already, but he can’t bring himself to face him yet. Actually, he doesn’t even care that much anymore. He lies on the dead, prickling winter grass and watches his breaths coming out as white clouds.

He’s _so exhausted_. Sometimes he wishes it would all just end and he’d be put out of his misery.

\--

“I’m disappointed in you, son,” his father declares. Ryu doesn’t look at him as he sits on his bed, legs outstretched before him in a lazy manner. His shoulders feel tense, though, and it doesn’t feel like he’s inhaling enough air in his lungs.

His father scoffs, displeased. It’s not like he wouldn’t know his new ways don’t sit well with his family. Sometimes he takes pleasure from mentally hitting his father, from the way his imaginary victim’s eyes widen in confusion and disbelief. He thinks about laughing hysterically and voicing out all the horrible things that venomously bubble underneath his skin.

He’s never going to do any of that, though. Not really.

“Do you have any idea what you did?” his father pries angrily. Broke the law, obviously, took part in a serious assault. He’s lucky if they won’t get a criminal record. It’s all his father thinks about. He doesn’t think about the reasons behind his abnormally violent behaviour – he only sees its consequences.

“I didn’t hit him,” he mumbles truthfully and rests his head against the wall.

“Oh really?” his father scoffs.

“Really,” Ryu answers. Whether he actually did it or not doesn’t matter – it’s obvious he was involved in the brawl. He’s not going to play the victim either. He doesn’t really care who hit him or whom he might’ve hit. It’s all in the past already, there’s nothing he can do about it now.

“You’ve become reckless, Ryu,” his father criticises him harshly. “Look at me,” he demands and Ryu does, cocking his head as he glares up at face he hates the most in this world. “Do you have any idea how serious this is? Quit acting like you haven’t been brought up to be sensible.”

“Whatever,” he sighs and looks away, pulling his knees against his chest. His muscles clench painfully as he anticipates the forthcoming manhandling he’s practically begging for.

“What did you say?”

“I said _whatever_ ,” Ryu repeats with a stronger voice, louder. He feels his mouth twitching into a bitter chuckle. “I don’t really care.” There’s not much he cares about nowadays. His life doesn’t have a light at the end of the tunnel. It’s always like this, has always been.

He doesn’t know who he is. Maybe that’s why it’s so ridiculous that he just really wants to be himself.

“Show some respect, son,” his father demands from him furiously. Ryu presses his lips together, feeling defiant. He doesn’t dare to move from his bed because he’s got this horrible feeling that if he moves, he’s going to aggravate his father by stepping over the line.

“So what are you going to do now?” his father inquires. “You’re grounded. You aren’t leaving this house, Ryu, you’ll spend your suspension studying. Your mother will be watching after you. Don’t you dare act rebellious and disobedient now.”

“It’s pointless,” Ryu lets out a hollow, joyless laughter and lies down on his bed. His father’s eyes flash and he pulls him up to his feet. Ryu’s heart hammers. He knows this scene. He removes his father’s grasp with a harsh jerk and glares at him defiantly.

“You’ll do as I say,” his father tries but Ryu rolls his eyes and walks past him towards the door of his room. He’s yanked back harshly and then he sees red and hits his father. He’s never done it before, unleashed that beast inside of him between these walls, but now he finds himself unable to control it.

When did violence become such an addiction to him?

His father grabs his arms and keeps him still. Ryu roars obscenities, but he takes no pleasure from any of it. He’s only worsening his condition with every struggling movement and outraged word, because _none of it helps_ and he feels so scared and anxious from fighting his father like this that he’s kind of afraid he’ll die right here and now. His father is roaring back at him but he isn’t listening, can’t listen as he just tries to get away from the tight grip that’s going to lock him here again.

He can’t stay here. Just _can’t_. The mere idea of staying here yet again is almost making him hyperventilate. Everything is blurry and painful and he can’t take any of this.

He breaks free, grabs his jacket from the floor and dashes out to the balcony where he heaves himself over the fence. His father roars at him and he flinches from pain, limping half the way towards the front gate before the adrenaline clouds over the pain and he follows his instinct to just get away, hide and survive.

It takes him ages to notice that it’s raining. His hair glues itself to his skin and it feels uncomfortable and icy against his skin, like tiny blades attempting to rupture him open. It’s already dark outside and the people who are defying time and weather are pushing past each other with colourful umbrellas that drip water on Ryu’s already soaked shoulders. He wanders aimlessly, too scared to go back home but with no idea where else to take cover.

He’s so tired he’s not sure if he can take it anymore. He’s left his school bag in his room, not that there’d be much use for it tomorrow, but at least he’s wearing his uniform trousers and jacket. He hopes to god it’ll stop raining soon and that he’ll be able to find somewhere isolated to rest before school. For now, his small hopes seem a bit futile.

“Ryu?”

He turns around, soaked all the way through his clothes. Hayato has an umbrella to cover him as he jogs his way over, face twisted in worry. When he detects the bruises, disappointment flashes through his eyes. It makes Ryu feel nauseous.

“Why is it I always find you bruised and cold? You’re like an ice stick,” Hayato groans as he covers him with his umbrella. Ryu sniffs thanks to the cold and starts walking ahead, but Hayato follows him determinately. He’s loyal, he’s got so many qualities Ryu would never have imagined before he actually got to know him. He isn’t sure if he likes it, though. Not at this moment.

“Go away.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Hayato snarls, starting to grow annoyed. Ryu shoves him and glares at him furiously, his heart hammering. He just can’t take the man’s presence right now. He needs solitude, it’s the only thing that still keeps him together. “What the hell, Ryu!”

“ _Leave me alone,_ ” Ryu insists coldly as he turns his head away and starts walking. He doesn’t have anywhere to go and he knows he has to return home eventually, so he at least wants to walk off some of the difficult feelings before that, so that he can keep his face and pride when he comes back home. He isn’t going to give his father the pleasure of breaking him. No way in hell he will.

After Hayato manages to shake himself out of the dumbfounded stillness, he jogs his way back to Ryu’s side. Ryu’s aware of his state, the mix of emotions on his face varying from anger and bitterness to helpless sorrow. Hayato grabs him by his biceps and twists him around to face him. Ryu refuses to raise his gaze from Hayato’s neck.

“Look, I don’t know what happened,” Hayato starts his speech with a trembling voice, “but you’re soaked through, and there’s obviously something wrong. …Come to my place?” he suggests with a nervous but soft mumble. The grip of his fingers loosens ever so slightly. “I’ll get you some dry clothes and blankets. And tea. It’s okay, just come. I insist.”

He’s never been to Hayato’s home – he doesn’t know if anyone has. He looks up at him, eyes narrowed in disbelief. But _he’s so cold_. It’s regrettable that Hayato always seems to find him like this. So embarrassing.

Hayato doesn’t wait for his answer – maybe he knows it isn’t coming at all. Instead, he firmly takes a hold of Ryu’s wet arm and starts pulling him along. Ryu follows him with as much dignity as he can behold with his stiff limbs shaking from the cold. He grits his teeth together to keep them from clattering.

The walk is _long_. They’ve left the better part of the city and somehow found their way to the poorer area, which doesn’t entirely surprise Ryu. Somehow it all suits Hayato, the dark streets and shady people giving them glares from the other side of the road. There’s a tiny, cramped convenience store on their side of the road with only two rows filled with household necessities. Its windows shine a gloomy, white, fluorescent light over them as they pass it by. Ryu’s never been to a store like that in his life.

When Hayato finally stops, they’re standing in front of a dirty, three story tall block building. The doorbell buttons look worn and greasy but Hayato ignores them as he pulls out his keys from his pocket and opens the door before insistently pushing Ryu in. It’s a bit spooky, a place like this, and the lights flicker as they turn on when they step inside. Hayato refuses to take the lift (“It’s a bit… shaky”, he claims, but Ryu’s quite sure it’s got something to do with Hayato’s obvious fear of the supernatural), so they climb up the steps to the third floor.

The black door which has a nametag ‘Yabuki’ has some of its paint chipped off. Ryu is shivering uncontrollably as he stands behind Hayato, waiting as the boy unlocks the door and opens it warily while peeking in. There’s a sound of TV, some late-night quiz show, Ryu thinks, as Hayato motions him to follow as he slips inside and removes his shoes messily at the entrance.

“Where have you been?” a strict voice calls out and Hayato grimaces. Ryu stares at the man who appears from behind the corner. He’s attempting to dry a glass with a moist cloth as he peers at the two of them angrily. Hayato’s father, Ryu assumes, as he slowly strips his shoes off. Hayato cocks his head defiantly and exposes his teeth.

“Out,” he answers curtly. “Make way, Ryu’s cold.”

Ryu bows his head politely – he feels guilty if he doesn’t show some good manners when meeting older people. He can’t shake off the way he’s been brought up but Hayato pays no heed to it as he grabs him by his bicep again and leads him across the apartment, past a younger child who’s peering at them curiously from the couch, and all the way to the bathroom. Ryu sniffs anxiously as Hayato throws him a clean towel and rushes off to find some clean clothes.

He strips his clothes off nervously, listening to the arguing noises coming from outside the room. He doesn’t really know where to put his clothes so he folds them. He shivers in the towel for a few minutes before Hayato returns, red-faced and clearly pissed off, and throws him a pair of college pants, woollen socks and a baggy, hooded college shirt. Hayato hangs his clothes to dry on the metallic bar reserved for the shower curtain while Ryu slowly dresses himself, hands so shaky and fingers so numb that the simple task turns out to be a major challenge, but he refuses to ask for help. After he’s finally done, the clothes feel incredibly soft and thick against his skin in a very unnatural way, and Hayato looks soft and worried as he takes his hand and starts leading him out of the bathroom.

Hayato’s fingers are _so warm_ compared to his; they feel hot against his skin.

He sees Hayato’s father’s back as the man slouches around the tiny kitchen area before Hayato pushes him through another doorframe to a room with a wardrobe, two futons and barely any room for walking. He’s shoved on the one furthest from the door and Hayato wraps the thick blanket tightly around his body, even if he tries to struggle against his friend’s advances. Hayato pouts and ruffles his hair before he sighs deeply. “They’re making tea for you,” he informs with a quiet mumble. “Dad says you can stay for the night. If you want to.”

It’s such a nice gesture. Ryu sniffs from the cold and pulls his knees against his chest. He’s still cold and the warmth just isn’t _coming to him_ even after all of Hayato’s kind attempts. He doesn’t know if he should stay or go home. It wouldn’t be the first night he wouldn’t come home, but…

Hayato sighs loudly and crashes to sit down beside him. He leans against his knees, somewhat ahead of Ryu so that he can’t see his face. It’s probably kind of tough for him too – he can tell that Hayato is a bit of a softie under the tough surface, but neither of them is really accustomed to talking about sensitive, personal stuff. It makes the situation painfully awkward.

“If you’ve got trouble with some people, tell me, won’t you?” Hayato speaks with a firm tone, his head tilted away from Ryu. There’s this incredible distance between them even though Hayato is _right there_ and it’s so absurd and odd that Ryu doesn’t know what to think of it. “I’m serious. You can rely on us. We’ll help you deal with them. It’s… I mean, if your pride is making you keep it a secret it’s a bit… It’s just stupid.”

“You wouldn’t be able to help me anyway,” Ryu objects right away, because that’s how things are. Would he be in trouble with some normal punks… yeah, maybe things would be a bit different. He doesn’t know if he would rely on his friends with that either, but… About this, his real problem… no one can help him.

“I want to protect you,” Hayato scoffs angrily. “Stop making me say sappy stuff, it makes me feel stupid.”

It’s not like Ryu forced him to. He sneezes and Hayato turns his head around to face him worriedly.

…This doesn’t suit them at all.

“Talk to me, Ryu,” Hayato insists, his eyebrows knitted together in worry. He looks genuinely pained and troubled by Ryu’s poor condition. “We’re friends. We’re supposed to be open and stuff.”

Ryu snorts, feeling unconvinced. In his life things have never been so stereotypically simple. Talking is so foolish. Somehow it hurts more if someone knows. Maybe it’s because of the disappointment, because there is nothing to accomplish by sharing his hardships. No one can help him anyway, not in the slightest.

“Ryu.”

His friend’s voice is a silent croak, so desperate. Ryu looks at him with hollow eyes, feeling the black hole gently spiralling inside of him. He has no idea what he’s made of at all.

He draws in a shaky breath and lets his gaze avert and focus on the stupid, silly green striped woollen socks he’s wearing. He curls his toes and tilts his head miserably, feeling withdrawn. He’s safe here, in his own solitary cocoon. And somehow this place, too, feels a bit like a safety haven.

“It’s my father,” he admits, lips ever so slightly pursed, but it’s embarrassingly audible in his muffled voice. He doesn’t see Hayato’s face. His friend doesn’t even flinch. Ryu sniffs from the cold and rests his chin between his knees. He feels shaky all over. “He…”

The words don’t come out. He’s never talked about it, never thought of talking about it. Still, somehow weirdly, Hayato seems to understand as he shuffles closer, their sides brushing through the thick layers of fabric, and the boy wraps his arm around Ryu’s shoulder for support. Ryu holds back his tears, but can’t help the pained grimace. He feels more of himself shattering, coming loose and spiralling away.

“I understand,” Hayato tells him softly, peering down at him. “Alright then.”

Hayato’s brother, Taku, brings him tea but Hayato’s father doesn’t show himself again during the night. After Ryu’s finished his cup and warmed down at least a little, Hayato crawls under the blanket with him and pulls him close to share his body heat. Taku joins in later, on his own futon across from them, and the lights are turned off. Ryu feels his insomnia acting up and keeping him awake even though he’s _so tired_ against Hayato’s chest.

Sometimes later, after soft, deep breathing comes from behind Ryu, Hayato’s forehead bumps against his. It makes his mouth go dry and muscles stiffen in dreadful anticipation. He hopes that’s it, that nothing else will happen. His body quivers helplessly as he waits, doesn’t budge, doesn’t dare to allow himself to even hope. He can’t handle this. Not now.

Hayato’s soft lips press against his, warm and yielding. Ryu’s eyelids slide shut and his heart hammers anxiously as he feels Hayato’s arms clumsily snaking around him. He lets out a shaky exhale and sinks into the feeling of slight, moist suction and then there’s the tip of Hayato’s tongue, hesitant against his lower lip.

He can’t do this. His entire life crumbles down, all the years of fear and endurance, as he presses against Hayato’s lips. He opens his mouth desperately and deepens the kiss that renders them breathless, lets the darkness within him take over as he kisses the boy over and over again until Hayato rolls over him, traps his wrists beside his head and breathes heavily against his face in the darkness where he’s only a silhouette to Ryu.

“Don’t do it,” he gasps quietly with a shaky voice. He would, he knows. He would do it if Hayato would. He wonders where his fences are, the ones that keep him intact. He’s unable to listen to the voice of reason in his head which is spitting gruesome words at him with his father’s voice.

Hayato hesitates over him, glances at Taku’s bed quietly as Ryu feels himself sinking away. Then he sighs and collapses back to his spot beside Ryu, his breathing heavy and agitated. Ryu fights to regain control.

Then the silhouette beside him turns around and the moment is gone. Ryu wonders in horror if there’s a way back after crossing the line he’s avoided for too many years.

\--

“Are you coming with us, Ryu?!” Hyuuga enquires him, his face lightened up by excitement. Ryu stands still, his expression stern as he tells himself that really, _it’s nothing_. It’s not that big of a surprise, and he shouldn’t be offended either. It was just a mistake.

“Girls, Ryu!” Take sighs dreamily, his eyelids half closed and eyes hazy. “Real girls…”

“Boobs!” Hayato cheers and makes a high five with Tsucchi who looks just as excited. Something clenches Ryu’s stomach and he feels awfully breathless and weak. He cocks his head in wonder while his friends peer at him expectably. …He doesn’t want this.

“I’ll pass,” he says and ignores the loud choir of disbelieving cries. “I don’t really care,” he continues with a low mutter and continues walking towards the school. He’s going to get over this. Why it is so hard, he doesn’t really know – probably because of the kiss.

Hayato is attending the group date. He’s back to his usual self. Whatever his failure in judgement with Ryu had been, now it’s clearly been pushed in the past like it should, which is alright. He wouldn’t have pursued it anyway, so it’s alright that Hayato runs wild and charms everyone that comes his way. If he ever succeeds in it.

“’I’ll… pass!’” someone mockingly imitates him from behind and the whole group breaks into wheezy laughter. Ryu rolls his eyes. He’s never going to live this one down, is he?

\--

The main reason for many people not to get involved with someone they fancy beyond belief is the fear of losing the friendship acquired with them, or so Ryu has heard anyway. It’s popular in both literature and TV, the perfect love story where the main obstacle can be tackled by just a few simple words.

After that part, though, there’s a downhill. Ryu tries his best not to let the shared kiss affect their relationship, but it does. Hayato becomes distant and awkward around him and avoids hanging out as just the two of them. There’s one upside to the entire ordeal, though – amongst all the harsh words, cold shoulders and unjustified mocking, Ryu becomes closer with Take.

If Ryu had to describe his friendship with Take with only one word, he’d choose comfortable. The vertically challenged boy with his bright smiles is oddly similar to him, and they understand each other with very few words. It doesn’t mean that they don’t talk much, because talking with Take, too, is much easier than it is with any of the other hooligans their circle of friends has. It’s maybe the most fortunate friendship he’s managed to acquire during his entire life.

While Ryu becomes more distant but calmer, Hayato turns into a rash and raging douchebag. His nerves are constantly strained and he’s picking up a fight with anyone who crosses paths with them without a care of the others’ opinion. He’s got some issues, they all do, but the idiot he becomes when avoiding dealing with them makes Ryu hate him. Which is kind of easier, because it’s so much simpler to hate Hayato than it is to fancy him.

Eventually, Ryu grows tired of Hayato’s reckless and bipolar behaviour around him. He just wants it all to stop, he wants to stop feeling _so fucking confused_ all the time, and move on. The opportunity presents itself through Take – he’s worried, he tells Ryu quietly one night when they’re walking under the streetlamps just the two of them, that Hayato’s eagerness to push them into all the violent commotions will get them all expelled for good.

Ryu’s already past caring. He doesn’t care about himself – there’s no definite source of happiness in his life. If there’s a tiny twinkle of something he likes here, in this life right now, it is Take. “I’ll deal with it,” he assures his friend darkly. Take peers up at him with deer-like eyes that gleam in the dark. “Leave it up to me.”

Bowing down isn’t easy. He can’t remember the last time he did so; these past two and a half years or so, he can’t remember bowing down even once. Not at home, not at school, not during his free time – not even once. Where there used to be soft skin now is a thick layer of something that helps him get by.

He’s past caring, whether it concerns his life, future, reputation, or relationships. Maybe that’s what makes him so dangerous. He’s an explosive with feet. This time, though, he’s going to release the fire on himself.

“We forfeit,” he mumbles to the rowdy teens that laugh at him. Ryu draws in a deep breath. He’s got to stay calm, he’s got to hold onto that hollowness within himself, or otherwise he can’t do this.

“Is that so?” the leader hollers, his cackling ear-wrecking. Ryu grimaces as he gets kicked to the ground. “Bow down then. Who are you?”

“Odagiri Ryu,” Ryu speaks clearly. His heart is pounding in his chest and he can see Hayato’s expression when he finds out, the way he’ll freeze in disbelief, go through a desperate denial phase before the rage kicks in. After that, he’s done for, he knows it.

“Isn’t Yabuki your leader?” the Ara High leader asks him dubiously, his brows knitted together. Ryu raises his head slowly and glares at him. He closes his fingers around the dragon-button of his uniform jacket and pulls it loose.

“He only thinks he is,” he declares and drops his precious button to the strange palm in front of his face. “I, Odagiri Ryu, beg of you not to fight them. We forfeit. The fight is off.”

“Well, since you insist,” the boys laugh cruelly and someone gently kicks him over to his side. The demeaning laughter gets louder, echoes from the concrete walls around them. Ryu keeps his head bowed. “Let’s go,” someone says and the leader ruffles his hair evilly as he walks past him without a second look.

When Hayato finds out, he snaps. Everyone is furious at him, but judging by the looks on their faces, Hayato’s reaction scares them all. If Ryu has experienced physical pain before, it’s nothing compared to this. There’s wood against the soft spots of his body, there are fists aiming to crack his fragile bones and blood everywhere. His school uniform tears, there are finger-shaped bruises on his neck and his nose gets smashed into a bloody mush. There isn’t an inch in his body that doesn’t hurt, and by the time the school manages to get the cops to stop the outburst, he’s lying on the floor in excruciating pain.

Nothing wounds him as much as his head does, though. Not even nearly.

He undergoes minor surgery and stays in the hospital for a few weeks in monitoring. He doesn’t really know what happened to Hayato – he knows he let him have it as hard as he could, but it’s obvious that he was on the losing side. He’s not in the hospital, his father informs him coldly, and tells him he isn’t allowed to go to school anymore. From now on, he’ll have to stay at home because if he continues with his current class, he’s going to get killed, and if he changes schools it’ll look bad in his records.

Months later, there’s yet another new teacher. There’s something special about her, Ryu notices, as she puts her maximum effort into getting him to return. First he fools her, plays with her, just for the old time’s sake – it’s not like a teacher matters, he’s learned they don’t. When she actually saves his ass and shows her sincerity, Ryu can’t help but feel obligated to give her something back, which is something he hasn’t done in a very long time.

He returns to school. It takes them a few weeks and icy encounters, but somehow she fixes them. Ryu lies on the riverbank and feels Hayato lying right by his side with a soft and vulnerable expression on his face. Ryu can’t remember how long it’s been since he’s seen that face.

He falls right back in love again.

\--

“You might want this back,” Hayato grumbles embarrassedly as he pushes something small and cold in Ryu’s hand. The second button of his uniform, Ryu notices, as he stares at its rectangular shape and its tiny dragon picture for a while. He hums his thank you and slips it into his pocket carelessly.

Hayato is looking at him. There’s this funny look in his eyes, soft and thoughtful. Ryu would like to say that it doesn’t suit him one bit, but weirdly enough, it does. “What?” he shoots at his friend and Hayato turns his head away, grimacing. He lowers his head almost right after, looking at his silver shoes.

“Aren’t you quiet,” Ryu mocks him and crosses his arms. He doesn’t like the wary and awkward atmosphere at all. It’s kind of threatening, he feels, like something irreversible is going to occur whether he likes it or not. Hayato laughs a little, his tone hollow and joyless. Then he looks back at Ryu again, but the expression in his eyes has remained the same. It makes Ryu feel like there’s no oxygen in the air around them.

Eventually, Hayato pulls him in a dark alleyway and kisses him. The harsh tiles press uncomfortably against Ryu’s back as he tries to squirm just a little in refusal. He wants to push Hayato away but it’s _so difficult_ when his mouth is soft, warm, welcoming, and moist, something he’s never allowed himself to pursue. He bites back a whimper and ends up setting his hands on Hayato’s shoulders as the man keeps withdrawing and pushing his way right back, their lips brushing and pressing together helplessly.

He can’t refuse this, he notices. Thinking gives him a headache and the way Hayato makes him hit his head against the wall multiple times only enhances the throbbing.

He can’t imagine ever kissing anyone appropriate like this.

\--

Ryu enters the living room quietly. He feels determined, though – a tiny bit worried but mostly confident. He’s grown a lot during these past few months with Yankumi. This isn’t a bad thing, he keeps reminding himself as he walks over to the armchair where his father is resting after a long day of work. The TV is playing commercials, some girl band waves at them cheerily in their new album promotion video.

“I want to become a teacher,” he declares nervously. He’s thought about his future _so much_ and somehow it just doesn’t open for him. He’s thought about many things, but either he feels no particular interest for them or he knows his father would never accept them. This idea, though, might stand a chance. He doesn’t know how much he wants it, but it can’t be that bad either. He’s got a role model who’s taught him so much, and he kind of feels inclined to pursue after her footsteps.

“A teacher?” his father thinks as he examines him carefully with his gaze. It’s not a bad reaction, Ryu notes hopefully as he stands beside his father, waiting for his decision. “Are you sure?” his father questions him warily and he nods firmly. His hands are starting to feel sweaty. “You don’t want to be a detective? A doctor? A lawyer?”

“No,” he admits anxiously, trying to keep the lump in his throat from stealing away his voice. “Not really.” He wouldn’t have the grades needed for successfully applying to any medicine schools or such anyway, even if he were interested. Going to a police academy would feel like cheating after all the crimes he has committed – not to mention the whole idea kind of disgusts him.

“Teacher,” his father tastes the word in his mouth.

“Yes,” Ryu answers with a sure voice and waits. His heart is fluttering and he feels dangerously light. This can’t be this easy. His father furrows his brows and Ryu feels his stomach prickling in excitement.

His father sighs and looks a bit more encouraging as he peers up at him calculatingly. “It’s a demanding job, Ryu,” he tells him with a firm voice. Ryu nods as an answer – his mouth is too dry to speak. “You’ll have to be respectable. No more funny games, you’ll be responsible for being the role model for your pupils. You’ll be either praised or blamed for their success and actions. Excuses won’t work.”

“I know,” he croaks and bows his head. “I’ll do my best. I can do it, father. I’ll work until I can.”

“Alright then.” When Ryu straightens himself and looks at his father’s face, there’s a hint of a proud smile on his face. “I’ll help you look for a university. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I won’t,” Ryu gasps breathlessly and bows again. “Thank you.” _So, so much._

“You’ll graduate soon, Ryu,” his father tells him fondly as his eyes swift back to the television – the commercials are over, and some kind of late-night police drama pops back on the screen. “I want you to keep that in mind. No funny business anymore. Focus on your studies and you’ll do well.”

“I will,” Ryu assures his father and takes his cue to leave. He feels euphoric and unable to believe he survived the lion’s cage and even left it with _praise_. It’s one of the rare times when he feels like he’s good enough for his family. He’s back on the right track, he notes in relief as he half runs up the staircase and towards his room, ignoring his curious-looking mother in the hall.

 _He’s going to become a teacher._ There’s something he can be moulded into after all. His life has a purpose, or something like that. It took many painful years to discover it, but now he’s sure.

He just hopes nothing’s going to come and knock him off his silver-lined cloud. His life, still, is just as fragile as it has always been. If he doesn’t stay on track, he’s going to lose it all. It’s one of the scariest things he can think of.

The euphoria doesn’t last for long as the graduation draws near and problems arise. Hayato senses his foul mood and holds his hand one night when they’re out, just the two of them. His palm feels sweaty and he fidgets more often that normally and looks a bit like he’s gotten caught doing some funky business he shouldn’t be doing.

Ryu squeezes his hand back and pretends everything’s the way it’s always been. Maybe it is, too.

\--

Hayato gives him his second button. “What is this?” Ryu inquires, his eyebrows knitted together.

It’s horribly cliché and ridiculous, but Hayato hisses at him sharply and takes his hand into his, closing it around the button tightly. “Don’t show the others!” Hayato murmurs through his pouted lips. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what?” Ryu scoffs. His palm feels sweaty around the tiny button and his heart hammers. He doesn’t really want to feel this way. It’s too intense and it’s just _too much_. The sunset paints Hayato’s face warm and lovely. The thought makes Ryu look away. He’s feeling way too mushy right now for his own good.

“It’s as _thank you_ ,” Hayato insists slowly, as if to make sure Ryu definitely understands. Ryu bites back his remarks, out of which one of them is the one with the brains. “For standing by my side all these years, you know? I owe my ass to you,” he scoffs. “If you tell the others, they’ll think I’m favouring you. So just shut up about it and treasure it. Or something.”

“Got it,” Ryu assures him and watches him turn around. Hayato walks, his steps slouchy and long. His silver shoes make an ugly contrast with the barren grass.

To hell with it. Ryu’s heart prickles insistently and he feels something explosive growing inside of him, like the black hole he’s so used to would be vomiting everything up. The world has all the colours of the spectrum, vibrant and overwhelming, and he can’t help but grab Hayato by his shoulder and halt him.

“Wait,” he groans and closes his fist around his second button, which he’d tailored into his uniform himself – and pulls. There’s a tiny snapping sound as the thread breaks and Hayato looks at him with vulnerable eyes, as if he wouldn’t believe his eyes. There’s a beautiful flush in his cheeks that Ryu doesn’t dare to point out.

“If it doesn’t mean anything,” he tries to justify his impulse as he gives away his second button and feels bare and lost.

“Ah, thanks,” Hayato mumbles as he takes it from him and examines it briefly in his hands. His fingers look shaky and Ryu slips his fists back in his trouser pockets as he looks away. There’s a lump in his throat he tries to ignore as he holds onto his mask.

Then he forfeits and walks away, just to protect his pride from Hayato. It’s not serious. His feelings might be, but their relationship isn’t, even with all of its fickle encounters. If he shows his true face, he might as well lose everything he’s managed to build from his shaky foundations with help from Yankumi and his friends.

He’s not ready to let Hayato kick him off his feet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be.

\--

There are times when reality sickens Ryu. It swells in his gut and spreads all over his body like a dark entity that drains him of his mobility and emotions. He can’t remember the times when it wasn’t like this. He thinks he wasn’t a very happy child. Not that he’d remember it properly. Most of his childhood, in fact, hasn’t transferred and remained in his long term memory. He’s only able to recall hazy, little things with no special meaning at all since before he was ten years old.

A loud ruckus emits from the kitchen area of the brand new apartment Hyuuga got himself after their high school studies. The kitchen is where everybody is, loudly cheering Hyuuga and Tsucchi on with their drinking game. It’s only him and Hayato here, on the couch, shielded from everyone else by a thin wall. This happens too frequently, Ryu thinks to himself absently as he takes another swig from the beer bottle. Hayato is uncharacteristically quiet beside him.

It starts out with shifting, disguised as Hayato positioning himself better – his neck hurts or his feet aren’t comfortable, whatever his excuse for each time is. Ryu can feel the couch sink and rise as the dark haired man moves and somehow always ends up closer and closer to him, rendering him breathless. There’s some brief chatter between them, tense and awkward, and then there are Hayato’s teeth grazing his chin before his lips softly bury themselves in his neck with a flutter of dark, short lashes.

He’s fancied Hayato for the majority of their friendship. He still keeps catching himself staring at the young man’s back profile, wondering how broad his shoulders have become in just a matter of a few shared years. Hayato has a habit of making him feel _safe_. The feeling is completely illogical, since Hayato’s gotten him into far more deadly serious fist fights than anyone else he’s ever come across during his lifetime. Irrationality, though, doesn’t change anything. Not for him, when it comes to this prickling feeling.

He feels subtly aroused but most of all nauseous as the man’s lips keep quietly pecking him and his fingers snake under the hem of his shirt to brush over his abdomen. He doesn’t answer the ministrations, he never quite dares to. He does want to, but he’s scared he’ll end up going too far, revealing everything about his internal battle to Hayato and scaring him away.

There is a chance that Hayato is just being an opportunist. He gets his encouragement from the piling bottles of beer and secrecy before he presses close and does his thing. Sometimes he apologizes. Most of the time, he doesn’t.

Ryu turns his head away. The world spins and there is this innate drive that makes him want to spread his legs, pull Hayato closer and ravish him like neither of them have ever been ravished before. He wants to satisfy all the helpless cravings he’s endured for well over three years now.

Were he to actually do that, he could never take it back. Neither of them could. He isn’t selfish or stupid enough to risk this friendship they have for it.

He lets Hayato kiss him on the lips. He opens his mouth for the soft and moist tongue that sets butterflies fluttering inside his stomach, and sighs deeply, taking in all of the wild sensations. Heat rushes to his face and it makes him feel nervous and eager. The kiss is pleasant and Hayato both tastes and reeks of beer. He’s quick to consume his liquid strength nowadays.

Every kiss always leaves him desperate for just a bit more. They break apart and breathe heavily before Hayato slowly sinks back in, his fingers tickling Ryu’s flushed skin from above the waistline of his trousers. Ryu loses himself and wishes Hayato would push more, get between his legs and devour him fully, no questions or permissions asked.

It never happens. This time, too, someone is yelling Hayato’s name from the kitchen, making the man flinch. Ryu bites his lip and stares at him silently with hazy eyes. He soundlessly urges Hayato to go with a tilt of his head. They aren’t supposed to be doing this.

Hayato gets up and goes. Ryu feels utterly disgusted with himself as he nurses his beer, thirst long drained. Some things are just never supposed to happen, even if they could. This thing between them, too, should just end completely before he can’t fight it anymore.

Or maybe he’s too deep in already.

\--

Dinner is tense. His father is briskly telling the family something about a series of bank robberies to which his mother keeps nodding and humming as Ryu sits on the other side of the table silently, poking at the food on his plate. He has no appetite.

His father laughs hoarsely, the voice echoing from the walls. Sometimes Ryu wonders if he ever goes to bed thinking what his family might really feel about him. He’s so into himself he doesn’t see around him, Ryu has observed through the years. No one’s opinion matters, unless it comes from someone in a higher position than him.

If Ryu got his tendency to complain and care less about others from somewhere, it has all come from his father.

”Father,” he interjects and sets his chopsticks down. The anxious sensation in his chest tightens as his parents turn to look at him. His mouth goes dry and, for a while, silence contaminates the room. He’s successfully laid out the foundations for yet another scene at the Odagiri household that will have nothing but an ugly ending.

Hope is something he doesn’t possess. There is no hope, not with his parents. For a short while, thanks to Yankumi, he used to think so, think that as long as he was able to gather courage and convey his emotions truthfully to his parents, his stand would be carefully considered and a chance for his little and modest dreams would exist. This, though, is too much to even dare dreaming of, never mind voicing out.

There is no turning back after this, he knows. His fingers curl into tight and shaky fists under the table as he draws in a deep breath and prepares himself. After this, he is sure, everything is going to end in an instance. After this, nothing will ever quite be the same again.

“I like men,” he speaks tonelessly. His heart is beating _so fast_ it’s unimaginably painful, and a numbing, prickling sensation starts creeping up his arms. “I’m gay,” he decides to clear possible hopeful misunderstandings up – if he’s come this far, he’s going to walk all the way to his grave.

His parents are never going to understand.

“You’re confused, son,” his father finally manages to open his mouth. His face has paled a little and there’s a familiar harsh look on his face, one that makes Ryu’s muscles clench as he fights the flight reaction. He’s been faced with that look all his life, and never once when it appeared did things turn out well for him. Sometimes it haunts him all the way to his worst nightmares. “What is this, Ryu? I thought we were over this rebellious age of yours. I thought you finally regained some sense into your head.”

“This isn’t about you,” Ryu argues, his breathing shallow and rapid. The world depicted before his eyes feels overwhelming, like it’s about to come at him with a tidal, wave-like force. His father doesn’t understand this in the slightest. “This isn’t personal, I’m not rebelling. This is me, father. I like men,” he gulps in defeat but refuses to hang his head as his eyes gloss. He can’t even see Hayato’s face in his head anymore. His emotions are draining away with every word, trying to save him by making him back away. “I love men.”

His lips are trembling as his father stands up. He flinches with every step and looks up at the man, feels the harsh tug on his collar as he’s pulled up to his feet. His mother flinches as well and curls up a little, her breathing sped up. She’s not going to stand up for him. She never did.

“There’s something wrong with you, Ryu, and we’re going to fix it,” his father tells him spitefully. The man’s spit lands on Ryu’s face but he doesn’t grimace, doesn’t do anything but stare at him in dread.

He wishes the world would end here and now. From here on, he thinks, he doesn’t want to see and experience the future anymore.

“I don’t think it can be fixed,” he tells with a trembling, mournful voice. If it could’ve been fixed, he would’ve done so ages ago. He’s feared this revelation so much since he was in secondary school that he’d done everything in his power to turn the tables. “I’ve always been like this. I was never interested in girls; I was always looking at men.”

There’s a punch in his face – his father isn’t going to listen to any more of this. His cheek throbs and swells and a few stray tears finally run down his face as his father moves his grip to his hair, yanking his head painfully back. His breaths come out in sharp wheezes. “This is our fault,” his father hisses before Ryu gets thrown to the ground. His body collides with the table and he can hear his mother screaming in fright. There’s some clanging above him on the table, possibly some glass falling over. “We’ve been ignoring you too much, Ryu. You were always a sensitive child, we should’ve guided you better! I was too busy with work and I let you grow up with your mother and look where it got you!”

“I LIKE MEN!” Ryu decides to scream from the floor, finally losing it. There is no cause-and-effect relationship in here, the whole thing is plain and simple and there are no explanations for it. “I WANT TO DATE MEN, I WANT TO SPEND MY LIFE WITH A MAN, I WANT TO –!”

“I should’ve seen this coming,” his father lets out a hollow, joyless laughter as he pulls him upwards by his hair. Ryu stumbles up from his knees before he’s yanked out of the door. He’s scared for his life, he realises as he helplessly lets his father drag him. He’s not going to win this one. A mere thought of what’s coming now petrifies him. “We’re going to get you some help, Ryu. We’re going to fix this problem, and you’re going to work for it. My friend’s brother is a psychiatrist, I’ll book appointments for you. Don’t you speak about this to _anyone_ ,” he’s commanded as he’s surprisingly thrown to the bathroom instead of his own room. He’s hiccupping, he notices, as his father rummages through the cabinet with shaky hands, spilling his mother’s medication and make-up to the sink as he curses. Ryu doesn’t dare to move from the floor where he sits, fingers pressing against the chilly tiles.

He gives up. The old habit takes over his sudden defiance as his father kneels down next to him and forces him to sit in the bathtub. He’s shaking violently as he hears the scissors and sees his own copper hair falling over his clothes and pooling around him on the porcelain.

\--

Tsucchi curses when he sees his hair and stops flapping his fan. His sudden shock attracts everyone’s attention and it takes a while for some of Ryu’s friends to recognize him as he morosely slouches over. There’s a loud wave of disbelieving cries and curious queries that he brushes off with a shrug and a glare. He doesn’t want to talk about it.

Hayato scans him with a wary and thoughtful expression on his face. He looks slightly disgusted, and he is the only one who isn’t saying a word. Ryu doesn’t feel like himself at all under the unusual scrutiny. The long copper strands that used to brush his shoulders are gone, replaced by ebony, short locks, created with household scissors and his mother’s hair colouring solution.

They eat parfait at the local snack bar. Take sits with him at another table, attempting to constantly tell him how nice he looks. He’s only trying to be supportive, which is something Ryu is truly grateful for, but none of it really matters. He’d seen the looks before. He doesn’t fit in with his friends at all anymore – he looks like an ordinary salary man who’s gotten in trouble with some ruthless punks.

He wonders why his hair has such an impact on him, or maybe it’s all the bellowing that is still ringing in his ears. His wounds are still open, if they’re ever going to heal at all. There is nowhere satisfying to step from his position. He can only attempt to bear with it.

“Are you alright?” Hayato asks him later when it’s just the two of them outside, smoking cigarettes. His lips are pouty and fists stuffed in his pockets. Ryu sighs heavily without looking at the man. He can hear how Hayato shifts his weight constantly from one foot to another. “I mean, did the old man do that to you?”

“It’s nothing,” he insists, turning to face Hayato completely. The man looks frightened. He doesn’t want to be here with Ryu. Probably wonders if he should feel guilty for something too. Ryu doesn’t know what the real answers are. “It’s got nothing to do with you. This is about me.”

“We’re not… you know…” Hayato sighs heavily and squirms on his feet, “All that… you know…”

He knows. He snorts a little and draws in a shaky breath. It’s about time this came up. He’s been waiting. He wonders if it’s going to hit him harder later or if it’s really this easy, just a sharp, ripping sensation somewhere inside of him. “I never thought so,” he assures Hayato. With that, the topic is over.

Hayato doesn’t give him those long confusing looks, anymore after that. He’s distracted by everything else as Ryu just sits and wonders if it’s possible to ever recover from this and discover something new, something that could actually be more than just an unrequited pursuit of something impossible.

Or maybe he’ll never have anything. Were his father to have his way, he’d be making love to a woman he doesn’t feel sexually drawn to for the rest of his life. Most likely, that is how things will turn out for him. His needs come last.

\--

The therapy is a lot of bullshit, at least when the psychiatrist in question is probably scared shitless of his father. Ryu listens to the woman’s sympathetic speeches and evaluations of his problems. _Daddy issues_ , is what he reads between the lines. He does acknowledge that his childhood hasn’t been exactly the best, but just because his father was an ass it doesn’t mean that it has created for him a twisted way of seeking a romantic interest out of strong men who could “fill” that _metaphorical_ hole inside of him.

Or maybe it is so. He’s not the one with a degree in here. He feels mutilated and humiliated by everyone treating him like he’s _ill_ and _abnormal_ just because he fancies men, not women. Breasts do nothing to him and he doesn’t think he can really see women – they’re frail shadows that look pretty, but he just can’t see their souls or such. _Mommy issues_ , is what he reads between the lines when the topic switches to that.

It’s so _exhausting_. Homosexuality’s been around since forever, and even Ryu knows it’s not only humans who practice it. He just happens to swing that way. Even if it would be because of his parents, he wouldn’t care. It’s a part of him and he doesn’t really want it gone, he can’t imagine himself loving a woman the way everyone tells him to. He doesn’t think he can do it, but he isn’t accepted because of his sexual orientation. His father worries that it’ll cause him trouble career-wise, and he’s probably right too. To Ryu, though, it’s something personal and in his opinion it shouldn’t have anything to do with anything which it isn’t strictly related to. It’s a bit too bad it does.

His head is spinning and he feels heavy when he slumps inside his room after a long day with university and therapy. There’s a plain, very modest-looking envelope laid down on his pillow for him to notice. It has only his name on the cover, he notes curiously as he sits down and picks it up.

It has Hayato’s handwriting. His heart clenches as hope starts swelling. _‘I like men’_ , his head chimes to him shakily as he eyes the short letter desperately. He just needs some hope right now, anything. He needs someone to accept that side of him.

After he finishes reading the brief letter, his eyes gloss again and he curls up, trying to stop his body from racking so harshly.

 _I don’t want to cause you trouble. I’m really sorry,_ Hayato has written on the ripped notebook page he’s folded inside the envelope. _I’ll go to California for a few years, got an apprenticeship offer. Thank you for everything. You’re my best friend. Do your best!_

It’s his first love, he knows, as he slips the envelope in his night stand drawer and crashes down on his back on the bed. Hayato is his first true love.

First loves hardly ever work out, though. By the time Hayato comes back, his father will have probably already forced him into marrying some respectable young lady to enhance the illusion of his straightness. Who knows, when Hayato comes back, maybe he’s got a beautiful, American fiancé by his side too. He can’t be the only person with the ability to see that lucid shine of his.

His sexuality has to be fixable, he begs to himself desperately as he stares at the ceiling boards in dread, tears prickling in his eyes. Sleep isn’t coming to him. _It just has to be fixable._

If it’s not, he’s never going to find happiness in his life.

\--

The next months, Ryu spends them attending the meetings with possible future fiancées his father has handpicked for him. He dresses up formally, sits in fine restaurants to dine with young women from respectable families and tries to make small-talk. A few of them he meets more than once, but none for a longer period of time. His father doesn’t give up the hope, though, and insists on more and more arranged meetings in hopes of pushing his son into experiencing some sort of enlightenment regarding women. Unfortunately for everyone, Ryu never does.

His father makes the therapist talk about it with him. They go through all sorts of conversations about possible fear of commitment, uneasiness around the opposite sex and how to treat a woman. Ryu finds it ridiculous – it’s obvious that the therapist isn’t even trying to be understanding. He’s around only to aid his father into shaping Ryu into another person entirely.

“Look,” he sighs in the middle of the main course with a young woman named Emi. “I’m afraid this isn’t going to work out,” he briefly explains and bows his head down in apology. She looks appalled and hurt. Ryu doesn’t really understand the sweet and cute type, the ones with round eyes and small mouths to enchant guys. It should probably pull on his heartstrings, but it doesn’t. It’s kind of cruel, but he doesn’t feel like he’s talking to another human being at all, never mind a potential lifetime partner. “You’re not really what I’m looking for.”

They skip dessert. In fact, they skip the rest of the main course too since the girl excuses herself to the bathroom and never comes back. His father snaps at him at home and, for a while, Ryu listens to him. He tries to empathise with his father’s stress, but he can’t. This isn’t fair at all.

“If you aren’t going to pick anyone, I’ll pick one for you,” his father threatens him. He might mean well with it, but Ryu can’t have any of it. He’s an adult now and he understands responsibility, but what his family is asking from him is impossible. He isn’t able to throw away his life like that for eternal suffering. In the end, no one would be happy.

\--

Once Ryu comes to terms with the solid sexual identity he has, he flees from home.

He doesn’t take much with him, only what his travelling duffel bag and school suitcase can withhold. He’s got his university stuff, wallet and a few articles of clothing as he desperately rings Tsucchi’s doorbell. He fidgets on the doorstep anxiously as he waits for his high school friend to open up. It’s a lot to ask, but he doesn’t really know what else to do. For a person who’s spent the majority of his life confused, he’s feeling surprisingly lost right now.

“Ryu?” Tsucchi cries out in surprise before he greets him with a wide and toothy grin. “I haven’t seen you in a while!”

“It’s good to see you too,” Ryu croaks and tries his hardest to smile at his friend. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Tsucchi nods enthusiastically and takes his duffel bag from him. “I take it you’ll be staying for a while? Or are you going to travel somewhere? What’s up?”

Ryu sighs morosely as he follows his friend in. He slides the front door closed behind him and takes off his shoes before he follows his friend to the living room where Tsucchi dumps his duffel bag beside a modest-looking and rather tiny couch. “You can make it into a bed,” Tsucchi explains with a confident smile as he hops to sit on the armrest. “It’s not much, but it’ll have to do, okay?”

“It’s good,” Ryu assures him and takes a look around. He’s been here maybe once or twice before, but not much. It’s been awhile since he’s even gotten the opportunity to meet up with his friends – ever since he came out of the closet to his parents, his father’s been awfully protective of him about going out to spend time with the guys. His free time has been filled with therapy and senseless match making to the point of exhaustion, not to mention all of his university assignments.

“So… what happened?” Tsucchi asks him with a softer tone. Ryu shrugs as he sits down on the couch. Honestly… he doesn’t know. Nothing particular happened, except for a small moment of panic. He doesn’t trust himself to keep his head above the water at home. He doesn’t believe in himself.

“I’m starting to discover something,” he admits to Tsucchi slowly, thoughtfully. “The true me, maybe. My parents don’t like it, though, so…” He draws in a deep breath and shrugs. “I don’t want to live my life their way.”

“No one should,” Tsucchi assures him and pats his shoulder encouragingly. Ryu grimaces and pushes his hand away but his friend just laughs before he drops beside him on the soft cushions of the couch and ruffles his short hair. “We were already getting worried.”

“Shut up,” Ryu chuckles and elbows his friend in the ribs. He’s smiling, though. Something about this place makes him feel safe and protected. Here, maybe, he can dwell on himself and push his life on a track he’ll choose himself.

“Stay for as long as you want, I like company,” Tsucchi singsongs at him with a mischievous smirk. “Want a beer? I’ve been craving beer for _hours_.”

“Sure,” Ryu laughs a bit and sees Tsucchi’s face light up. The man opens his fan with a swift flick of his wrist and strolls towards the kitchen area joyfully. He’s come a long way too, Ryu knows. It’s funny how well things have worked out for them after all the dark high school years.

He rests his head against the backrest of the couch and closes his eyes. Now he can finally rest.

\--

Getting out of his troubles turns out to be much more difficult than he’d originally thought it would be. Ryu had counted on the advantage his age gives him to keep his father at bay, but his father refuses to accept his attempt to cut the family ties and become independent. It would probably be alright, Ryu assumes, had he shown at least some remote interest for the opposite sex and talked things out with his parents before moving out.

His first reaction is to hide. When his father tries to pester his friends about his whereabouts, he moves around between them, never staying in one apartment for too many days straight. His friends constantly lie to his father in order to protect him. He doesn’t dare to go to university anymore in fear of being discovered and forced home against his will. His friends’ apartments turn into cages and all the hope he might have withheld before this whole cat and mouse game began drains away.

In the end, Ryu acknowledges the fact that he can’t avoid his father forever. His friends aren’t entirely supportive of his choice, but they accept it, grudgingly grinding their teeth together and grimacing as he calls his father. He decides to offer to have a cup of tea with just the two of them at Tsucchi’s apartment.

“I’m not going to force you back home,” his father tells him after an impending silence. Ryu isn’t sure what to think of it – he can’t remember having privileges unless his father thought he deserved them before. This, he thinks, cannot possibly be included into that category. “You’re right, Ryu, you’re an adult now and you should make your own choices. However, I would like you to do the right thing.”

For him, the right thing is to stay here where he is and sort out his own messed up head by himself. He takes a long swig of his herbal tea gracefully and wonders how to interpret his father’s words.

“I would like to stay,” he decides to say. It should be obvious by now that this is what he wants, but this conversation they’re having sounds more like a negotiation. It’s like he’s a child – _‘Daddy, I want this’_. Depression starts prickling in his limbs.

“You’re a part of the Odagiri family, Ryu,” his father reminds him calmly. “It’s essential that you finish your education and live a respectable life. I’d hate you to be the person who tarnishes the name generations of fathers and sons have lived up to.”

“If you can’t accept me, exile me,” Ryu insists desperately. If his family name is what makes him void and tainted like this, he doesn’t want it. “I’m doing my best. If you can’t accept that, then I don’t know what to do.”

“Come home, Ryu,” his father requests. “Take your bags and make your mother happy. She’s concerned about you, her own flesh and blood just running away like that without a note or explanation… It’s very stressful to her.”

Ryu tries his best to keep the bitter grin from forming on his face. If he’s caused even a tenth of the stress his father has on her, he’d be incredibly surprised. It’s funny how his father can just be excused for all the things he’s done wrong, yet Ryu can’t even dream of winning his acceptance after the slightest mistakes he makes.

“So what are you planning to do, Ryu? Live with these friends of yours?” his father questions him. He sounds strict and harsh, and there’s something in his expression that signals a warning to Ryu. “They’ve committed criminal acts, Ryu. I’ve covered up things for them while trying to keep you safe, but the records still exist. They might resurface any time.”

“Are you threatening them?” Ryu laughs hollowly. He can’t believe it, can’t believe his father is pulling these strings. It’s low and cruel, but his father is desperate enough to use his job as a way of putting Ryu back into his place. “They haven’t done anything wrong in years, father.”

“Some of the old things can still be used to prosecute them,” his father reminds him curtly. He raises his cup calmly and takes a small sip, just for appearance’s sake. “You know I’ll protect you, Ryu, but there’s only so much I can do.”

“Leave,” Ryu snaps at him furiously and gets up on his feet. His father raises his eyebrows. He looks like he’s won already. “Just leave. Leave my friends out of this.”

“I won’t do any harm to them,” his father assures him as he gets up on his feet. “I just want you to be prepared in case something awful happens. I’ll protect them as long as they don’t house you like this,” he sighs deeply. “If you want to be independent, Ryu, be independent. This isn’t the way to do it. You either come back home or you acknowledge the possible consequences for your actions. I’ll hold your friends responsible for your turmoil if they hide you like this.”

“LEAVE,” Ryu bellows furiously and feels panic overwhelming him. “Just LEAVE!”

“I’ll give you a few days to swallow your unnecessary pride,” his father tells him curtly as he heads to the foyer. “All I’m asking from you is to come home. We can talk about the rest later.”

After his father is gone, Ryu packs his belongings and flees without alerting any of his friends. There’s only one more place where he can go anymore, one person who’s out of his father’s reach, safe in another continent.

He turns his phone off and takes the first bus to the airport. It feels like the final battle that defines the rest of his life and, sadly, he feels like he has lost before it has even really started.

\--

Los Angeles is scary. It’s loud, rowdy, and relaxed compared to the strict politeness of Japan he’s used to. People look different with their tanned and burned skin, the sudden mosaic of different ethnicities opening wide before his eyes. Ryu clutches his suitcase anxiously as he walks out to the cash exchange. The woman behind the desk tries to talk something with him with a white-toothed mouth and chirpy voice, but he doesn’t understand a word of it. She gets the message soon and takes his yens from the counter before coming back with an equivalent of dollars and probably wishes him off as her gaze turns to the next customer she greets. Ryu stumbles away, feeling stupid and lost. It’s clear that he doesn’t belong here.

What had he been thinking about again, fleeing here without a second thought?

He sits down on a bench outside the airport. There’s a long line waiting for taxis, there’s some kind of an argument around the middle of it between a dark-skinned man and a red-headed family of four, but Ryu ignores it as he skims down his contacts list and stops at Hayato’s name.

He hasn’t called him even once after his departure. Having to meet again like this makes him feel guilty, but he doesn’t know what else he can do anymore. He sucks in a shaky breath and dials, waits anxiously on his seat as the California sun assaults him.

“Ryu?” Hayato’s voice soon moans from the other end of the line. He sounds disbelieving, like someone would be prank calling him. All the way from Japan… Ryu scoffs at the idea in his mind but doesn’t let out a sound. No way in hell would any of them have the spare money for that.

“Can you pick me up from the airport?” Ryu asks him anxiously, feeling like his chest was about to explode any second. It’s scary asking for such a favour, utterly ridiculous after all the months of silence. He presses his lips together and tightens his hold on his suitcase. Hayato is silent for a while, trying to digest his words.

Ryu wonders if he’ll refuse. He doesn’t know what to do if he does.

“I’m… I’m not in Los Angeles right now…” Hayato finally admits with a hesitant voice that makes Ryu freeze. He’s such an idiot. He looks around helplessly, panic starting to creep in. “Ryu?” Hayato tries and Ryu hums something nervous to the phone. “Are you in Los Angeles?”

“Yes,” he admits – and he’s screwed without a place to stay, too. Damn it.

“I, uh, don’t know when I can get back… I’m on a road trip with some guys… We’re quite far away.”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck,” Hayato curses crankily. All Ryu can do is create problems for others, it seems. It makes his stomach churn uneasily. He mocks himself for his entire existence, because seriously, what good has he ever done? Hayato is quiet, trying to think of something somewhere far away wherever he is, unreachable to Ryu.

He had missed him so much. Now the emotions flood back painfully and he feels his lips tugging downwards. He doesn’t know what to hold onto anymore. All of his safety ropes seem to give in when he grasps them.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs into the phone as he lets his body slump against the backrest of the bench. His head is spinning. Hayato groans from the other end of the line, clearly unhappy with him, just like everyone else. He can’t do anything right, can he?

“Look, I’ll text you my address,” Hayato mumbles quickly as Ryu listens silently. “Take a taxi and show them the address. They’ll probably rip you off since you’re a tourist and all…” he sighs and Ryu grimaces, knowing he’ll have no way around the misfortune. “I’ll call my roommate to let you in. I’ll try to get back as soon as I can, catch some plane or something.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryu repeats, unable to resist the overwhelming need to apologize. He’s ruined a perfectly good vacation for Hayato. “Really. I should’ve called you first. I just panicked.”

“My roommate will take care of you,” Hayato insists. “He doesn’t speak Japanese almost at all, though… But I’m sure you’ll get along.” Ryu, in all his nervousness, isn’t quite as sure. “I’ll text you, okay? See you when I get back. I’ll text you when I know I’m coming.”

“Yes,” Ryu agrees and then the call gets cut. He stares at the screen of his phone anxiously, wondering how he got himself into this deep mess.

He raises his gaze and grimaces at the long taxi line before he gives in and makes his way over. He stops behind a young couple holding hands and chattering with bright, shiny smiles on their faces. His phone buzzes – the address. Ryu reads over the nonsense and realises he can’t pronounce it at all, but he should probably be fine if he shows the text to the driver. At least he hopes so.

It takes him over an hour to get to the front of the line and grab his own taxi. His driver is a stinking, sweaty, and slightly overweight man who chews nicotine gum and throws his suitcase in the trunk for him. He doesn’t stop talking even after he finally realises that Ryu can’t make any sense out of his speech, which is painfully nerving. The radio is on as they drive, blasting some Indian music the driver sings along to every now and then, quite badly too. Ryu stares awkwardly out of the window, trying to appear calm and collected while his heart painfully pounds in his chest like it was trying to break through his ribcage.

Expectedly, when they make it to Ryu’s destination, he gets ripped off. He keeps handing over American bills to the man’s sweaty palm and the man hums contently to himself. He looks greedy and after Ryu’s almost out of bills, he tries to object something in Japanese but it only results in him getting bellowed at by the taxi driver. He doesn’t understand a word and panics, feeling threatened, and keeps giving him his bills until he’s almost out of them and the man happily waves his hand and hops back inside the car, waving him goodbye and driving away. Ryu curses to himself helplessly as he grabs his suitcase from the ground and walks over to the door. He has to check Hayato’s apartment’s number from the text message before he presses the doorbell button at the front door to the block building, feeling nervous.

“Ryu?” someone’s voice asks him with a foreign accent from the speaker. Ryu startles a bit and tries to go through his limited English vocabulary for an appropriate answer.

“Yesu?” he tries roughly but it doesn’t sound right at all so he gulps and just repeats his name. There’s a buzz and Ryu tries the front door which opens. He mutters a brief “Sankyuu,” before slipping in and taking the stairs because he has no idea what floor Hayato’s apartment is in.

A tall, scrawny, and freckled boy waits for him at the third floor and motions for him to come in – Hayato’s roommate, Kevin, Ryu assumes – so he follows and lets the man take his suitcase. They shake hands and Kevin awkwardly shows him around a bit and leaves his bag to a room which Ryu assumes is Hayato’s. After that, Kevin tries to explain something to him but he doesn’t understand at all so he just stares at him stupidly. Kevin groans and goes to fetch paper and a marker, and then he starts drawing something that looks like a calendar with numbered boxes. He draws two stick figures in the first box and labels them ‘Kevin’ and ‘Riy’ (Ryu doesn’t dare to correct the boy’s mistake) and then only one stick figure to the next one, labelled as ‘Riy’ again. The next box has two stick figures; this time ‘Hayato’ joining ‘Riy’ and Ryu finally understands and nods. “OK?” Kevin asks him and Ryu nods – he’ll be alone here for a day then. Kevin smiles and pats his shoulder before walking off. Ryu isn’t sure if he’s expected to follow or not, so he stays behind, sitting on Hayato’s mattress absently.

He’s exhausted. It’s probably somewhere around midday here in Los Angeles. The heat is awful even indoors and there’s a loud ruckus coming from the traffic, audible even with the closed windows. Jetlag gets to him and he falls asleep within minutes, too exhausted to even fetch anything to drink or eat after the long flight with only a tiny bag of miserable peanuts. When he wakes up, it’s the middle of the night, and Hayato’s roommate is already gone, having left only a post-it note with an eating stick figure labelled ‘Riy’ again on the fridge door.

\--

Ryu’s awake and pacing around in the tiny apartment when he hears the key turn in the lock. The door opens with a creak and he wonders if he should walk over to greet Hayato, if he should welcome him home or something. In the end, he doesn’t. He has no idea where they stand, and truth be told, he’s afraid of getting rejected.

He’s not here to pursue a hopeless love affair. He just really needs somewhere safe to stay for a while, and Hayato is the only option he has so that his father can’t get his hands on him. Right now he needs a friend, someone who’ll sigh and hand him a beer as they sit silently on the couch and pretend that nothing wrong is going on at all, that everything is just fine and normal.

“Ryu?” Hayato’s voice calls out for him from the foyer. Ryu hears shuffling and the clanging of coat rack before Hayato’s steps approach the living room area where Ryu stands still, reminding himself to breathe.

Hayato’s unruly hair is dyed mid-brown. It looks a bit silly and adult on him, especially with the ponytail he has now. The man leaves his duffel bag lying in the middle of the corridor and walks over to him. For some reason, Ryu can’t come up with a greeting.

“Your first time here, huh?” Hayato laughs a bit nervously. His Japanese is a bit accented, Ryu notices, and there’s something in his aura that feels foreign and wrong, like he wouldn’t be the same person that walked away all those months ago. “Welcome.” Hayato ruffles his hair, which is still ebony black but a bit longer now. He hasn’t cut it since he fled from his father’s influence. Longer hair, somehow, makes him feel more like himself.

“Hi,” he finally mumbles and relaxes a little. Hayato smiles at him wonkily and then he’s pulled into a tight embrace. His arms rest awkwardly against his sides as Hayato squeezes him and withdraws, looking nervous and shaky. Ryu’s own heart skips a beat, even if he tells it not to. He can’t screw up his situation any worse.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Hayato barks at him, his voice shaky. Ryu gives him an unsure, crooked smile and then Hayato is beaming again. He looks honestly delighted about their reunion. Maybe Ryu should stop being so fucking unsure about himself. All the years of their friendship haven’t been able to crumble away just like that, even after the too-long silence.

“You want a beer?” Hayato asks him and motions towards a plastic bag with some kind of a huge logo on it. “I stopped by at a store on my way here. Thought we could make use of some,” he babbles on as he turns around on his heels and slouches back towards his belongings. Ryu fidgets where he stands before strutting after his friend. Hayato rummages through the plastic bag for a while before he straightens up with two cans and shoves one of them in Ryu’s hand.

He’s missed Hayato so much that his mere presence makes his face tingle hotly. He bows his head and opens his can, trying to recompose himself. Sometimes he wonders if he’ll ever grow out of the unsure awkwardness he possesses.

“I heard from the others,” Hayato finally confesses and Ryu licks a droplet of the tasty liquid from his lips. Hayato draws in a long, deliberate breath before he slouches past Ryu and crashes on the couch, wiping his mouth before taking another long gulp. Ryu doesn’t follow him. “This bad trouble, huh…”

“Mm,” Ryu hums in answer and takes a small sip from his can. “I couldn’t be what they want me to be,” he elaborates and Hayato purses his lips, avoiding eye contact.

It’s silent.

Finally, Hayato throws his head back and looks at him lazily. “So you came here,” he points out the obvious. “What now? What are you going to do? You’ve got no money, no job, your university is in Japan… you’re screwed, aren’t you?”

He’s right, and Ryu knows that. He knows he’s being an idiot, but he just can’t come up with any solution. Sometimes he thinks killing himself would be easier, but it’s not like he wants to die. Quite the opposite, actually – he wants to live. He wants to live his life. He just… can’t somehow make it happen.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits darkly. He doesn’t know what he was thinking when he fled here – that somehow everything would be alright with Hayato and the other man would have all the answers and solutions to his problems, perhaps? No, not really. Maybe, for once, he just _didn’t think_. He feels ridiculed and like he should just go if Hayato is going to be cold and nasty to him.

“ _Why_ are you here?” Hayato continues his outburst. He slams his beer can on the table and doesn’t mind the liquid that defies gravity and stains the tiny table. “ _America_ , Ryu? _Really?_ You don’t even speak English.” Not like Hayato would’ve when he first accepted the apprenticeship. Ryu doesn’t point that out, though.

Ryu chuckles, mocking himself in his head. He’s such an idiot. “I’ll be going then,” he announces and bows down to put the nearly full beer can on the floor. Hayato’s eyes are wide and anxious as he peers at him, his lips tightly pressed together. He’s right, it was stupid to come here. He doesn’t understand why Hayato had to come all the way here from his trip to tell it to his face when they could’ve just had this conversation over the phone.

He gives the man one last glare before he lets his feet carry him to the bedroom where he folds his pyjamas from Hayato’s bed to his suitcase and closes it angrily. His hands are trembling and he feels pathetic beyond belief. He doesn’t know what now. He has _no idea_ what now. Back to Japan, he assumes. Los Angeles was a dead end. All of his tries have turned out futile. Maybe he just has to bow down and endure, or do something desperate he really doesn’t want to.

“You’re such an idiot,” Hayato barks at him from the doorframe. Ryu straightens up with his suitcase and glares at him. They’re not friends anymore, clearly. He really was abandoned all those years ago. He’s such a nuisance to someone who’s a nuisance too.

He chuckles at his thought and approaches Hayato – he has to pass him to make his way to the foyer and out. Hayato shoves him backwards, though, and he snorts angrily. “ _What?_ ” he hisses and then Hayato attacks him and they’re struggling, Hayato forcing him backwards and him trying to break free and punch Hayato because _he’s being ridiculous_ and then there’s the edge of Hayato’s mattress and he trips with a startled cry, pulling Hayato down with him.

He tastes blood in his mouth as Hayato pins him down with his body. Both of their breaths come out ragged and fast, and Hayato’s eyes look dark and pained in an unexplainable way. “Let me –” he tries to object, but a pair of lips over his cuts him off and then they’re kissing, wild and desperate and teary. Hayato is nearly sobbing in his mouth and Ryu is afraid he’ll disappear completely if this won’t stop - or if this _does_ stop. He doesn’t even know anymore.

“I didn’t come here for this,” he tells Hayato with a low voice as he feels the man’s arousal through their clothing. “I’m not here for this. I just needed to get away,” he assures someone, not knowing if it’s him or Hayato who’s being his target. Hayato hushes him crankily and dips his head into another kiss Ryu can’t help but answer. He can’t help but quiver helplessly as Hayato’s hands slip under his shirt and search for all the sensitive spots that turn him on.

He gives in and lets Hayato overpower him. For the first time in his miserable life, he gives in to the temptation of sex and goes all the way.

\--

Kevin doesn’t return for a few days. Family stuff, Hayato explains briefly with a dismissive wave of his hand, and Ryu nods. He doesn’t really mind the American boy’s absence – he’s good here with just the two of them. A very peculiar kind of domesticity starts blooming around them, which is confusing but feels calming after all the hectic drama he’s had back in Japan. Here, with Hayato, he finds himself building something he never really dared to even consider building before. It’s going so smoothly it’s frightening.

“Good?” Hayato hums as he stirs the homemade sauce in the pan with a plastic spoon.

“Mm,” Ryu agrees – his cooking abilities are strictly limited, because his father never really wanted him to spend time in the kitchen, cooking. Hayato smirks and steals a playful kiss from him. Ryu thinks Hayato might really deserve that one.

They don’t really talk about the thing between them. Somehow, oddly, there’s no need. It’s not like Ryu would know where they stand. In fact, he doesn’t. He just _doesn’t mind_ , because something about the way Hayato looks at him and touches him convinces him that there might actually really be something here if they just let it in without disturbance.

“Ryu,” Hayato asks him when they’re lazing around on the couch after a long day. Hayato’s friends had come back from their road trip and insistently pushed inside the tiny apartment to see Ryu, for one reason or another. Ryu doesn’t think their visit went that badly, but then again, he had absolutely no idea what the conversations had been about at all when Hayato wasn’t translating them. Truth be told, he’s kind of a crappy translator too. “What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” Ryu hums in confusion. He doesn’t really like the serious and depressed expression on Hayato’s face, or the fact that he’s looking over Ryu’s head. Hayato snorts, and rolls his eyes before he starts playing with the sleeve of Ryu’s shirt.

“You can’t stay here forever. You know that, you’re not stupid,” he mumbles through his gritted teeth and squirms under Ryu’s weight. “Soon you’ll have to go back to Japan to your university. I was just wondering what you will do then.”

There’s a universe inside Ryu which is floating around in a dizzying way. He’s lost somewhere far away in space as he closes his eyes and dwells into the circling sensations. Hayato is right, and maybe he’s known it all along. He just hasn’t wanted to talk about it. Neither of them has.

“Is this just some phase?” Hayato groans in frustration, his eyes narrowed and voice hoarse. “This whole men thing… Is it just some last chance you’re pursuing before you go home and bow down to your family? I need to know that.”

“I don’t know, Hayato,” Ryu scoffs with a chilly tone and turns around to lie on his back in order to avoid seeing the attentive and pained expressions on Hayato’s face.

“Well, start knowing! Make some plans!” Hayato howls. “I’ll help you. If you want me to.”

He sounds so sincere it’s surreal. Hayato’s fingers entwine with his and his breath tickles Ryu’s neck. Ryu knows he doesn’t want to give this up. He chuckles exhaustedly and stares at the ceiling, wondering where he’ll be in five years.

“It’s not a phase,” he admits hollowly. “I don’t want to give up. I just don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll go to Japan,” Hayato tells him with a sure voice and Ryu wonders when he grew up like that. When did the reckless teenaged boy turn into this adult with _plans_ , rational thinking and important life knowledge? “Then you’ll have to get a part-time job. Yankumi will help if your father tries to stop you. You’ll get a job and you’ll go to university again to get your degree.”

“It won’t work,” Ryu sighs. “I can’t risk Take, Hyuuga, and Tsucchi. There’s no way I can. If I’m going back to Japan, I’ll have to go home.”

The silence is pained and discouraging. Ryu doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t like knowing it’s what’s ahead of him, sooner than he wants to, too. He closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. With Hayato close like this, he feels strength he hasn’t really had before. The unsaid promises hang in the air as good luck charms that Ryu wants to grasp and hold onto and never let go of.

“What about you?”

There’s a pause. Hayato’s thumb brushes his hand gently and somehow Ryu knows already.

“I’ll finish my apprenticeship here,” Hayato tells him quietly. “After that, I’ll come back to Japan. We’ll see what then. If you’re…” His voice dies and Ryu bites his lip anxiously. He feels kind of like he would be choking – this is something new, this intense feeling. It’s a bit like a catharsis for his long, miserable life.

Hayato lets go of his hand and wraps his arms around Ryu’s body. His quivering lips press against Ryu’s neck and Ryu draws in a deep breath to keep himself calm and composed. He doesn’t want them to be too sentimental. He’s not too good with that.

“So… tell me,” Hayato’s tiny voice trembles from behind him. “Is it alright to expect you to wait for me?”

Ryu snorts and rolls his eyes. He should’ve known Hayato would be mushy and overly emotional like this. There’s no way around it, after all.

“I love you,” Hayato blusters through his pursed lips. “Always have. So let me know what I need to do. Stop making me say all this stuff, _god_ ,” he groans angrily and removes his hands to bury his face in them. “You’re so annoying! You make me feel ridiculous!”

“You’re the one who’s ridiculing yourself…” Ryu mumbles, because really, he’s not some psychic making Hayato blabber about some silly depth of his heart. Hayato whacks the back of his head prissily. It doesn’t really hurt. “Don’t hit me or I’ll reject you.”

“You’re _heartless_ , Ryu,” Hayato wails and keeps poking his lower back, making Ryu flinch a few times before he regains control. “You’re cold and cruel! Ice queen! It is totally not fair!”

Ryu can’t help it – he snorts.

“Don’t start demeaning me before I’ve even rejected you,” he tells Hayato calmly and rolls over again to straddle the young man. Hayato’s eyes are narrowed and perhaps a bit panicky. He isn’t breathing so Ryu taps his throat gently. Seriously, sometimes he just can’t get over how ridiculous his best friend is.

“I want you,” he tells Hayato in all honesty and cups his face into his hands. Hayato’s cheeks are flushed. He looks healthy and mature. It makes Ryu give him a crooked smile. “Come back to Japan when you’re ready, won’t you?”

Hayato nods enthusiastically and his upper body shoots up to catch Ryu’s lips in a hungry kiss. So much for the mood.

He has to go back, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier, though.

\--

He steps out of the airport building to the general hassle of the city with its cars and people. A familiar stench of pollution floods his nose and he sighs deeply and closes his eyes. _Home._

“Ryu, this way!” Take’s voice calls out for him excitedly. He searches for the short figure among the crowd and finally spots Tsucchi’s bright red fan and tall build. They all came. He smiles a bit as he heads towards them and earns himself congratulatory pats on the back and shoulders. Ryu doesn’t even dare to ask why as he lets them guide him towards the bus stop, eagerly chattering about the plans they’ve made for the night, now that he’s back.

Ryu smiles sadly as he stands behind his friends who are reading the bus schedules. One day, he hopes, his father will forgive him.

He might be going home, but now he’s got a reason to fight for.


End file.
